Fluctuat Nec Mergitur
by thesummersparrow
Summary: The sound and feel of the water was the only thing that could ever calm her, but three words from another tribute was all it took for that safety net to be removed. "I'll drown you." Cato/OC
1. Nicaea Cosgrove

**I am so excited to finally be posting the first chapter of this. For the past month it's been my baby and gone through several evolutions. ****Any reviews or criticisms you guys can give me will be greatly appreciated and I'll reply to them as soon as I possibly can.**

**Thank you all in advance for reading (and hopefully reviewing- I've got my fingers crossed) this.**

**The Hunger Games are, of course, the property of Miss Suzanne Collins. :)**

* * *

The sun says it's nearing noon. I need to leave that way I can be ready on time, but I can't force myself to move away from my spot on the beach. I can't make myself walk away from the feel of the wind in my hair, of the sun beating down on me, or the waves gently lapping at my feet.

I let my body fall back against the sand and look up at the blue, cloudless sky. It's a beautiful day. A beautiful day that's about to be marred with the naming of twenty-three children who will be brutally slaughtered by their comrades. It's a sick concept and I quickly push the thought away, knowing it's best not to dwell. I've made it five years now without my name being called. I can survive this one as well. I have to.

My eyes close and I listen to the low rumble of the ocean and the distant cawing of the gulls. I could stay here on this beach forever.

Just as I'm about to doze off, there's the sound of feet clomping through the sand and giggles as two people race towards my silent haven.

"Nicaea! Nicaea!" the voices squeal before crashing into my body.

I open my eyes to see my younger, twin sisters, Lara and Lilaea. Their brown hair is secured in little braids on either side of their heads and they're dressed in cute blue and yellow sundresses. They grin up at me, front teeth missing, and I smile back at them. They have four more years before they have to worry about today. For now it's just a day of dressing nice and then a small celebration when we're all safely back home.

I hug them both tight and kiss the tops of their heads.

"Mom says you need to come home now," Lara says.

Lilaea nods. "She has a new dress for you. It's so pretty, Nic!"

Their grins get wider and I nod. It's time to go in now. It's time to get this day over with.

We stand up and brush the sand off ourselves before walking back into town together.

Where we live seems relatively small, but it's cozy and comforting. The buildings are crammed together, only a few stories tall, and are all painted in varying pastel colors. The windows in all the shops are dark today, but on any other day they would be full of displays featuring food, clothes, books, or the latest fishing gear. It's not just the shops that are deserted, I note, as we walk through town. Everyone's at home, tucked away with their families, holding each other tight, and hoping their name isn't called at the Reaping.

I want to shake my head at the thought. The Reaping is awful, even if your name isn't drawn, because most of the time it's a death sentence.

I grab my sisters' hands and pick up pace slightly. All these thoughts of Reapings and empty towns are making me anxious. I'm coming back. I'll be walking these streets tomorrow, singing and laughing with my sisters.

Our house is yellow stucco with only two stories, despite the fact that we could probably use a third. It has a bright red door and large windows that are open to let in as much sunlight and ocean breeze as possible.

Lara rushes forward to push the front door open and I see everyone else gathered in our small living room.

My parents are holding hands and the look of pain in their eyes makes me hurt. My name hasn't even been drawn and they're already fretting over the idea of me in the Games. It makes my heart ache, especially when I see how pale my mother is and how hard she struggles to walk up the stairs to get me ready.

She's been ill for years. When she was pregnant with my brother Keenan three years ago, we were absolutely certain that we were going to lose her. She pulled through it though and was doing pretty well until a couple months ago when she began having a bad relapse. It's been awful watching her slowly fade and even worse seeing my father dying on the inside while my mother dies on the outside.

She's trying so hard to put on a show though, to keep up tradition by helping me get ready. I know my older sister, Castalia, offered to help me. I also know Mother turned her down before she could get the whole sentence out.

So I follow her upstairs to the room I share with my sisters.

The twins weren't kidding, I think as I look at the dress lying on my and Cassie's bed. It's a lighter green color with little straps and when I pull it on I notice that it's fitted around my chest and waist before flowing down to my knees. This dress couldn't have been cheap.

My mother and I lock eyes and I see tears springing up in hers. In this moment, I know why she'd want to spend money on this dress. She's worried it might be the last time she'll see me in a nicer one.

I rush forward and hug her, the mere thought of losing my mother being too much to bear.

She pulls me back after a minute. "We still need to do your hair, Nicci. Playing out on the beach all day's got it in quite a tangle," she says while attempting to run her fingers through it. "Grab the comb please."

As I grab the comb, she hobbles over to the bed where she shakily takes a seat. I sit down in front of her and she begins brushing my hair. It's calming and so therapeutic that my mind shuts down until she pats my shoulders to let me know that she's done.

"Go take a look in the mirror. You look beautiful, Nicaea."

I glance over at the tall mirror leaned up against the far wall. My mother's statement isn't too far off. If I didn't look so sickly right now, I could be beautiful. But the stunning green dress and elegantly braided hair don't do much to hide the paleness of my skin or the fear and sadness harbored in my brown eyes.

I force a smile though and turn back to my mother. "Thank you, Mom," I say softly as I lean down to kiss her cheek. "For everything."

She nods and makes a shooing motion with her hands. "You're due in the square soon. You'd better scuttle off."

I grin before taking off down the stairs. She's right. It won't do to be late and, even though I'm a good hour early, I might still be pushing it to get signed in on time.

Lara, Lilaea, and Castalia all hurry out the door with me and, as we make our way down the cobblestone road, we gravitate closer together until we're holding hands with our shoulders gently bumping into each other. No one wants to walk into the square alone today and there's a feeling of safety in numbers.

Even though the twins don't really understand the fear that clenches my gut as we walk closer, Castalia does and she grips my hand tightly in hers. She's nineteen now, last year was the final year she had to place her name into the Reaping. We had a big party to celebrate. Our entire family crowded into our small house and our parents opened the bottle of wine they bought when she was born. One of their children had made it through safe and sound. Only four more to go.

Despite all that, I'm sure she's feeling the same fear as me right now. We exchange a look and I know for sure. Her blue eyes are filled with worry and I can see tears streaming in her eyes. No matter how hard any of us try to act strong, it's easy to see through the cracks.

"We told you your dress was pretty, didn't we, Nic?" Lara says from her place on the other side of Lilaea, breaking my concentration.

I nod. "You did, little fish. And you were right." We smile at each other, the corners of her eyes crinkling like our mother's. "But you two look absolutely adorable in your dresses."

They burst into giggles and I smile down at them. We're about a block away from the square now and my hands are starting to sweat. No one comments on it though, they just walk a little closer to me.

I look at the three of them, so thankful to have them. Despite the fighting and bickering any other day of the year, we always pull together for Reaping Day. We always put on a strong front and come out a little stronger because of it.

We enter the square and separate. The three of them go off to stand near where the other 17-year-old girls have already accumulated. They'll be close at hand and it'll almost be as if we're all together. I walk off towards the front of the Justice Building to get checked in.

I wait in line, get my finger pricked, and walk off to stand in my age group and anxiously await our District's escort, Ophelia Lovelace.

Our Justice Building looks only slightly different than normal. As one of the better-off Districts we can afford to keep it in better condition. Districts like 11 or 12 have decaying buildings that don't seem to get a whole lot of use; their steps are cracked, the windows dusty, the paint is peeling or gone in many places. It just doesn't look pleasant.

The one here in 4 gets pretty frequent use though. A lot of marriage ceremonies take place here as well as meetings about things going on in the District, school trips, the occasional visit from an important Capitol person, and, of course, the Reapings for the Hunger Games.

All around me, the other girls are fidgeting. We're all anxious and none of us are willing to talk. There's nothing to talk about. The area circling us quickly fills with our parents and siblings. The square feels much smaller now, but it's not comforting. It's restricting.

Right when I feel I might snap in two from the nerves, Ophelia walks out. She's decked out in a bright blue dress with a green wig and matching make-up and heels. She's dressed so over-the-top that it's hard to look at her without wanting to laugh. It's as if the Capitol's trying to provide us with comic relief before condemning two of us.

Too bad it doesn't work.

Ophelia saunters over to stand in front of the microphone positioned between the two bowls holding all the names, one for the boys and one for the girls. She talks about how fabulous it is to be here in District 4, we then watch a short film on the history of the Games before she finally announces it's time.

"Ladies first!" she trills before sticking her hand in the dish. She lazily rolls her hand around before selecting one. When she gets back in front of the microphone she flashes us a bright, toothy smile before opening the slip.

The next words to come out of her mouth change my life forever.

"Nicaea Cosgrove!"


	2. Pancakes, Cupcake

I sit frozen in my chair inside of the Justice Building. It's cold in here and the room feels so small. Why is it so cold? It's summer, it should be nice and warm. I shiver as my eyes flick around the room.

It's blue with a wooden floor. Large bookcases fill up one of the walls. The ceiling's high with a chandelier hanging down, the bits of crystal seeming to weep my loss with me. I can't bring myself to look out the window though. I know the sight of my home District will make me sick, especially seeing all the people out there smiling and hugging each other, knowing they're safe.

The door of my little room opens and I look over to see my family being escorted in by Peacekeepers. My mother stumbles forward out of my father's arms and I catch her before enveloping her in a tight hug.

My eyes swim with tears and I bury my face in her shoulder as sobs wrack my body. I don't want to die.

She pulls away and wipes my tears away. "No crying. You're coming back. You come back to me, Nicaea." Our eyes meet and I can't help but notice how tired she looks. I don't know how I missed it earlier. She looks so exhausted, like Death is about to knock on her door.

When Mom walks away, Castalia hugs me tightly while little Keenan clings to my leg. He doesn't understand what's going on, but he can tell something's wrong and that it involves me. "I love you, Nic," he says when I pick him up and kiss him. Normally he'd be full of questions, but I'm sure my parents told him not to ask any. I can't help but be thankful, my mind wouldn't be able to handle the interrogation of a three-year-old right now.

"I love you too," I whisper back hoarsely as I choke down more tears.

After I pass Keenan back to Castalia, Lana and Lilaea wrap their little arms around me. Their faces are tearstained, but they don't cry. They just hold me tight. For girls so young they're incredibly strong both emotionally and physically. I know they'll be alright.

My dad steps forward and holds me. He kisses the top of my head and tells me he loves me. He brushes away tears I didn't even know had escaped. "You can do it." His voice is hard. "You're smart and you're strong. You can swim and use a trident. You can win, honey."

My entire family is nodding. They have so much hope in me that for a second I believe it too. I can do this. For them. For Lana and Lilaea with their matching dark brown hair and eyes, with the light dusting of freckles, tanned skin, and skinned knees. For Castalia with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and sweet smile. For little Keenan with his easy smile and blue eyes, his childish questions and loving hugs. For my mother sick but so strong, with her brown hair pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, and the soft crinkles by her eyes that deepen when she smiles. For my father who is always so silent, but at the same time always ready with a comforting hug that smells of the sea.

I will win these games for them.

A peacekeeper knocks on the door to let us know our time is almost up. Everyone moves into a large group hug before one-by-one leaving the room until it's only Mom and I left. We look at each other. There's so much I want to say to her, to thank her for, to ask her about, but I can't find the words.

She places something in my hand. "I'll wait for you," she whispers before allowing herself to be taken from the room by a Peacekeeper.

Those words haunt me as their meaning sinks in. She's waiting for me. My mother is awaiting my return so she can die in peace.

* * *

An hour later, I'm on the train heading straight for the Capitol and the Games. Nervous doesn't begin to describe how I'm feeling. My hands are constantly rubbing the tan and white conch shell my mother gave me. It will be my token in the arena and I know it'll be useful. When I feel like falling apart in there I can put the shell to my ear and hear the ocean and allow that to bring me back to sanity.

Finnick Odair and Mags McCulloch, the mentors of District 4, sit across from Zayn, the other District 4 tribute, and I.

Finnick is gorgeous in the classical sense. He's tall and lean with red hair and sea green eyes that twinkle when he smiles at you. Women and men alike have fallen for him and his charms. Mags is elderly with beautiful white hair that she keeps braided up on her head. She smiles kindly at both of us, her whole body radiating familial warmth. Zayn is the same age as me with dark gray eyes and cropped black hair. We went to school together until we turned twelve and began working for the District. His vaguely familiar presence is comforting among the strangeness of the Capitol train.

"So, kiddos, what are your talents?" Finnick asks as he gently rocks his chair left and right. He has a pad of paper in one hand and a pen in the other that he's tapping quickly against it.

I look at Zayn and he starts talking. "I've been working out on the ships since I was twelve. I'm pretty good with a trident and a harpoon and I'm strong." His voice is deeper than I remember it being. It's of the same timbre as my father's, which makes his presence even more comforting.

Finnick laughs and I look over to see a genuine smile on his face. "Very good, very good." He writes something down. "I don't see them giving you a harpoon in the Arena though." He turns to me. "What about you, cupcake? What can you do?"

I pause. It's hard to evaluate yourself on the spot, to determine what could potentially save your life. "I'm a good swimmer; I help teach the kids when they're little. I can run fairly quickly. I'm ok with a trident too."

I'd be better with a trident if I'd been stronger and been allowed to stay on the ships longer. Women in our district rarely work on the ships though. They're usually sent to the factories where the fish are gutted and shipped out across Panem. Luckily for me, I'd been sent to work in the schools teaching the younger kids how to swim and perform CPR.

I look at Mags to see her nod and then smile at Finnick. "We can work with that," he says, writing some more. "Any questions?"

Zayn and I lock eyes again before shaking our heads.

"Poor things are in shock, Finn," Mags says, her voice soft and a little shaky. It's easy to see now why Finnick does most of the talking. "Give them some time to adjust." She looks at the two of us. "Go explore the train some and we'll try and develop a strategy for the two of you."

She smiles at us and we walk off to go look around the train.

The room we were in appears to have been the living and dining room. We're now in a small hallway with windows on the left and doors on the right. I open the first door to find a bedroom. It's huge. At least as big as the one I shared with my sisters. There're two smaller rooms off from it, one holding a closet and the other holding a bathroom. Everything in the room looks clean and new. When we search it, the room next door is exactly the same.

"So," Zayn says as he rummages through a closet and I feel my stomach clench, "how have you been?"

The pain in my stomach releases and I flop down on the bed. It's a pleasant surprise that he doesn't want to talk about the Games, but I'll take it. "It's been better lately. How about you?"

He comes out of the little room with some pants in his hands. "I think this is my room." He drops them carelessly on the floor. "I've been alright. Work is hard, but that's how it is."

I nod. "What kind of ship are you working on?"

He smiles and gestures towards to hallway before exiting the room and I hurry to follow him. "I don't work on the ships very much anymore. The past couple months I've been working in the factory."

My nose wrinkles. The factories are dark and smelly and the people who work there get sick a lot and end up with all sorts of cuts on their hands. I look at Zayn's, but don't see any. Maybe he's really good at what he does. If so, that would have been a good point to bring up to Finnick and Mags. Being good with a knife is typically a valuable skill only the kids from 1 and 2 have.

"Do you like it there?"

Zayn grins at me. "Yeah. It's alright. Not as dangerous as the boats. I don't have to worry about being thrown overboard in the factory."

I smile as we cross into another, similar car- windows on the left and doors on the right. These rooms seem more personal though so we quickly move on. Snooping in Finnick and Mags' stuff feels wrong.

The next car is the last. Its walls are made entirely of glass with a couch wrapping low around the wall. The windows are cracked open so the wind whistles around us and blows my hair in my eyes.

I hastily brush it away so I can take in the scenery flying by. I needn't have bothered though. It's just forest rushing by, a blur of green topped with a bright blue sky.

"We'll be ok, you know." I look up at Zayn and he looks down at me. "We can always join the Careers. That should get us close enough to the end to make it."

I shake my head at him. "I can't join the pack. I won't be able to put on a show like they'd want." I don't want to mention my hesitation about killing others and instead move to sit down on the couch. "Do you want to join the pack?"

He shrugs before flopping down next to me. "If they'll have me, I'll probably join them. Like I said, it makes it more likely for me to make it to the end. How can I say no to that?"

I just shrug because I don't know.

* * *

I sit silently between Finnick and Zayn on the couch in the living room. The rumble of the train is soothing and the darkness around us makes me want to go to sleep. It's so peaceful and warm, but I can't sleep. We have to stay up and watch the Reapings in the other Districts; have to sum up our competition.

Finnick fidgets, glancing at his watch. "Can't believe Mags skipped out on this," he murmurs before turning the television on and illuminating the room.

Everything here is so opulent. The television takes up the entire wall, not to mention the marble table in front of the fluffy couch that Finnick has his feet casually propped up on. I look at the window, trying to see the landscape flashing by, but it's too dark to make anything out. Just a black and navy blur passing by.

Ophelia walks in, as if the television coming on was a summoning for her. "Has it started yet? I just love watching the Reapings. Seeing everyone in their natural habitat. The excitement of being selected," she ends her gushing with a dreamy sigh. "Not to mention, you can tell a lot about people from this. Finn and Mags are so good at picking out who the contenders are." She smiles, her green lips spreading into a wide line across her face. Her mouth opens to begin again, but the sound of the anthem makes her snap it shut and take a seat in one of the comfortable-looking armchairs, eyes completely riveted to the screen.

I look over at Zayn and see him watching her too. I'm so glad I'm not the only one minorly amazed by Ophelia's love of the Reapings. He looks me in the eyes and I shrug before looking back at the massive screen. It's time to take in our competition.

District 1 brings in two volunteers, a blonde girl and an angry looking brunette male. The girl doesn't look terribly threatening, but I know looks can be deceiving. The male looks like he could be a killer. His smirk is a bit unnerving.

District 2 makes my heart stop. The girl looks to be about fifteen or sixteen and she volunteers right away, gleefully making her way to the front of the gathering. She looks like a complete sadist. The boy is just as bad, immediately volunteering before strutting his way to the front. He'll be the leader of the Career pack; Finnick and Claudius Templesmith say it, but it's unnecessary. We all know it. He has the confidence of someone who's spent their whole life preparing for this. It's very likely that we're looking at the next victor. The cocky smirk and icy blue eyes look out of the screen at me and I feel my palms start to sweat. He's gorgeous. Gorgeous and deadly.

District 3's kids are younger, maybe fourteen and no one volunteers to save them. It breaks my heart.

I gulp when I see our Justice Building appear. This is it. Ophelia calls out my name and the camera cuts to my face, catching the brief moment of shock before I get some control over my features. It's obvious I'm uncomfortable and the look I send back at my parents looks weak now. It might have been comforting at the moment to see their love written all over their faces and to have a last glimpse of them, but now it makes me seem dependent.

Zayn does better. He appears confident, like someone the Careers might want to align themselves with. That would fit in with his plans and it'd be best for him if they did; I selfishly want him to stay with me though.

We shake hands and Ophelia claps ecstatically in the background, her huge smile radiating through the screen.

"What did you look back at?" Zayn asks, looking at me.

I can feel Finnick and Ophelia looking at me too now. They're all curious.

"My family. My mom's really sick and the doctor says she could die any day. I didn't know I'd get to see her in the Justice Building, so I wanted her to know that I could be strong. That I'd try to come back," I say, feeling my throat tighten slightly and I look away, down at my hands clasped tightly in my lap.

"Cupcake," Finnick says, "you've got nothing to worry about. The Capitol will eat that up." He pulls out the notepad from earlier, jotting down some notes. "You'll have to work that into your persona. You're the girl fighting to see her mom again before she dies. They love a sob story." Our eyes meet, his full of devious glee and mine full of doubt and anger. "I know it feels manipulative and wrong to have everything about you out there, but you kids have to get used to it. They're going to film every second of you while you're in the Capitol. You won't be able to blink without them knowing about it. Best to use it to your advantage."

I sigh and clutch my knees to my chest. I don't want to use my family like that, it makes me feel like I'm already stooping, working to be the Career my district says I should be. I want people to support me because they think I'm capable, not just because they want me to see my mom again.

On the screen they have moved on to District 7. Neither of them really catches my eye. No one looks overly intimidating or threatening. The female tributes from 9 and 11 make me want to cry though; they both only look to be about twelve or thirteen, nowhere near ready for the Games. It's sick that kids so young have to be shoved into this when everyone knows they won't really stand a chance.

Then District 12 pops up. Another younger girl's name is drawn and right when I'm about to walk away into another room, a girl volunteers. She gets up on the stage and steely gray eyes look out at us. She's the girl's sister and the first ever volunteer from her District. She'll be tough to beat because it's obvious how determined she is to win and from the clucking of Finnick's tongue I know he agrees.

No one tries to save the boy and the shot ends with the two shaking hands.

Claudius and Caesar Flickerman pop up now and begin babbling about the tributes. The boy from 2 seems to be their main focus. They're absolutely doting over him.

"Well, kiddos, that's your competition." Finnick stands, eyeing us both. "Some of them are going to be tough to beat." He pauses and takes a step back. "But we're from District 4. We work with weaponry on a daily basis. We ride ships into storms and come back out unscathed and with enough food to feed us all for a week. We have endurance and we have heart. We can beat them." He grins at us and looks over at Ophelia whose eyes are shining in the light from the TV, clearly inspired; then he smirks and turns back to us. "That was me invoking my inner Mags. Now get to bed and we'll talk some more strategy in the morning and try to get you prepared."

* * *

That night I have difficulty sleeping. I wake up multiple times from nightmares, typically featuring the boy from 2 or the Career girls trying to kill me, once it was even the crippled boy from 10. Waking up in a completely different place was no help either; the momentary confusion mixing with the fear from my dreams and sending me into a panic that ended with me in tears at least twice.

I want to be home. I want to be able to snuggle into the small bed with my twin sisters, to stumble downstairs and see my parents nestled snugly in their bed, to look out the window and see and hear the sea crashing against the beach.

It isn't happening though and I have to accept that and move on if I'm going to do well and survive. So in the morning during my shower in the large, marble bathroom, I tell myself I'm not going to worry anymore, that all my troubles are going down the drain with the soap bubbles. When I emerge, I feel better and I meander around in a fluffy towel while I tie my hair up in a bun and go around picking out clothes.

* * *

Breakfast is a special affair. When I walk in, Finnick is dramatically recounting the Reapings to Mags. It's highly amusing with Zayn and I clutching our sides. He imitates nearly every tribute, acting like an airhead for the blonde from 1 and an ape for the boy from 2.

Mags is quick to smile and even laughs a few times, looking at Finnick with complete adoration. Clearly, Mags loves him like one of her own, which is pretty easy to understand. There's a sly boyish charm about Finnick and he's quite attractive with his windblown copper hair, sprinkling of freckles, and slow, sweet smile. If he wanted to, he could have made any woman swoon.

When he's done, Mags turns to me. "How did you sleep, Nicaea? The trains can be difficult to adjust to."

"It was…" I pause. I can't help but wonder if she heard me crying last night. "Different. I got some sleep though."

She nods knowingly. As a mother she must be able to tell that I'm avoiding telling the whole truth, but she doesn't push it, instead turning her white-haired head towards Zayn and asking him the same question.

I turn my attention to the table where there are all sorts of food, many I can't even name. There's bread with numerous jams and butters, fruit galore in a whole rainbow of colors, some sort of flat bread with a sweet liquid all over them, eggs, some various meats, and what looks to be candy in front of my mentor.

Finnick laughs at me. "Just grab something. It's all good."

I grab one of the flat breads and some fruit. After a couple bites of the bread, I smile. "What are these, Finnick?"

He shakes his head. "Those are pancakes, cupcake. You never had one?"

I shake my head taking another bite, grinning as the sweet liquid fills my mouth. "Nope. Just bread and the occasional biscuit." I then skewer a couple pieces of fruit. "Had you had pancakes before you became a victor?"

This stumps him for a few moments and I watch as he pops a sugar cube in his mouth and runs his hand through his fiery hair. "I guess not."

"So," Zayn says, drawing our attention to his and Mags' end of the table. "Have you come up with a strategy for us?"

Finnick smirks. "Of course we have."


	3. Monsters Survive

**So here's Chapter 3. I hope you guys enjoy it- we've made it to the Capitol now! :)**

**As a sidenote, Saturday will probably be the day that I update on from here on out, so don't expect anything for another week... **

**Anyway, thank you all for reading (and reviewing maybe?). It means a lot to me that you have. **

* * *

The Capitol is a mysterious place, I decide as I look out the train window. The buildings are so tall and opulent. It looks like they could touch the sky if they wanted to. It all looks so cold though, everything is made of metal here, not the soft stucco from home; the edges are sharp and crisp, not curving. The roads are straight, paved, and lined with cars and people who are bustling about from one place to the other in their over-the-top clothes and their brightly colored wigs.

I can't imagine wearing something like that. Ever. But I know it's coming for me tonight at the Parade. Our stylists will dress us up in extravagant and horrendous fish costumes to represent our district. I wish they were more creative, but I know better. For as long as I can remember we've been fish and this year will be no different.

The train begins to slow down and I grab the wall for support before looking at the other people in the room. Ophelia's pacing back and forth, a slight jump in her step. She's excited, ready to be back in the Capitol. Mags is sitting in the same chair as she was yesterday, her knitting spread out over her lap. I can't tell what she's making. Maybe a blanket. Zayn is looking out the window and waving at someone, probably Capitol people since I can hear them screaming. Finnick though is looking right at me. He's leaned back in one of the chairs, with a cocky smirk on his face before he motions for me to turn back around then mimes frantic waving.

Message received, I think before turning around and doing as instructed.

The people go mad. They're so excited to see us that I'm surprised none of them are foaming at the mouth. Each time I wave their smiles get bigger and when I return the smile a few of them scream and faint.

They're absolute lunatics here.

When the train comes to a stop, I have to take a deep breath. Here we go.

We plunge headfirst through the crowd. Ophelia leads and Finnick and I follow with Mags and Zayn bringing up the rear. We all wave and smile at them, but not for very long since it's a short walk from the train to the Training Center.

Once inside, we're all separated. Finnick, Mags, and Ophelia head off towards some elevators and Zayn and I are led away by our Prep Teams.

Mine consists of two women and one man. All of them are wearing the same white coat over their outrageous outfits. The women are dressed more strangely than the man with colorful feathers coming out of their hair like a bird's. The one with blue feathers says her name is Leto and the one with green feathers and skin says her name is Hera. The man has purple hair that sticks out in all directions and is introduced to me as Gerard.

Leto, Hera, and Gerard soon begin "prepping" me. This means that they shave, wash, pluck, trim, and speculate every inch of my body. I mean _every_ inch too. There's not a part of me that these three don't see and I can't help the blush that seems to permanently mar my cheeks. They don't seem to mind though and the two women prattle on about things going on in the Capitol. Gerard doesn't say anything though, choosing to silently work on trimming my hair and nails.

Finally, after what seems like hours of primping and make-up, they step away from me and smile.

"You look lovely," Hera trills.

Leto nods. "Galatea will be so pleased!"

Gerard has mysteriously disappeared I note and look around for him. After a minute I see his bright purple hair returning with a beautiful, dark skinned woman in navy robes. Hera, Leto, and Gerard bow their heads in her direction before scampering off. I think I hear one of them giggle something about clothes.

The woman smiles at me and tucks a bit of hair behind my ear. "I'm Galatea. I'm your main stylist. I'll be in charge of all the clothes you'll be wearing while you're here in the Capitol." Her voice is deeper and she speaks slowly. She pauses when the Prep Team comes back in with a couple bags and boxes. They're giggling like the twins did when they were small and I smile at them, something's clearly got them excited. When they leave, Galatea looks back at me. "I'm also in charge of them."

I grin. "They're… interesting."

She nods. "They are that. Now, Finnick and I spent some time yesterday discussing your image for the Games. Has he talked to you about it?" When I shake my head no she frowns. "Of course not," she sighs. "Boy loves keeping people in the dark."

"Am I going to be a fish?" I ask, trying hard to hide the disgust in my voice. We're always fish. Always.

Galatea smirks. "Not quite. Finnick's feeling confident this year. He thinks we've got a real shot at winning so he's insisted I change your outfits."

Part of me is hurt because I know he thinks Zayn will be the one to win, but I'm also intrigued and watch closely as Galatea walks over and pulls something out of the bag. It's a mixed blue and green fabric that flares out at the bottom. I furrow my brow. I don't know what it is or how I'm supposed to fit into it.

"Come on. Let's get it on you. It'll all make sense when it's done."

I obediently walk over and step into the fabric, soon realizing it's a skirt. It's skin tight and clings to my lower body until it hits my knees where it flows out in a mass of fabric. Galatea tugs at it some till it settles low on my hips before smiling and walking over to grab something else. Instead of giving me a top, she fastens seashells to my chest before stringing ropes of pearls around my shoulders. In my hair she entangles a few more before placing a small diadem on top of my head. She slips my feet into a pair of heels that match the fabric of the skirt and steps back.

"That's it," she says with a smile. "Now turn around and look."

When I do, I feel the breath leave my body. I look nothing like my normal self. The skirt has transformed my lower body into a fish's tail. The blue and green colors have melded together to look like scales that glisten and shimmer whenever I move. My upper body is scantily clad with only seashells and pearls to cover it, but strangely enough it works and doesn't look as promiscuous as I would have claimed. My hair looks as though it's been dried in seawater with little bits of pearl caught in it and hangs loose around my body to act somewhat like a shield for my modesty. I'm also a little shocked by my make-up. It's simple and clean, not overdone and dramatic like the stylists typically favor and I love it.

I smile as I soak it all in and realize what I represent. I'm a creature of legend. A woman who swims in the seas and rescues lost sailors from a watery grave. I'm a fish with the upper body and ethereal beauty of a goddess. I'm a naiad, a siren, a mermaid.

"Well, what do you think?" Galatea asks, as she comes to stand beside me.

I turn to her, my eyes wide. "I'm a mermaid," I state dumbly.

She nods. "You are. As per Finnick's request."

"I look beautiful," I add, unable to keep my eyes off of the creature in the mirror for very long.

"You do," she says.

"Thank you," I whisper. Words can't express how grateful I am to her. She's given me a decent start in these Games and I won't waste it.

She walks away and I turn to see her leading in the rest of my Prep Team. Hera and Leto squeal and jump up and down in excitement when they see me. They gush compliments and assurances that this alone will win me over all the sponsors in the Capitol. Hera brushes a couple tears from her eyes and turns to look at Gerard who is smiling and nodding his approval. This reaction seems to suit her because next thing I know she and Leto are hugging me and leading me out of the room.

In the hallway it's cold and I feel goosebumps popping up all over me. I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to stay warm. Gerard places his white coat over me and I smile gratefully up at him. Even if they are a little weird it's obvious that they care.

The hallway is empty but there are noises coming from behind some of the closed doors. I wonder if the other tributes are behind these doors, still getting transformed for our grand debut. I don't get to ponder it long before I get hustled along at a quicker pace and Galatea begins giving me instructions.

I'm supposed to wave and be playful, she tells me. I need to stand tall and smile. If I want to flip my hair or bat my eyelashes flirtatiously at the citizens, I shouldn't suppress the urge. She also mentions that giggling at them is acceptable behavior.

I don't foresee me giggling at them.

When I walk into the stables where the chariots are stored I see Zayn and Finnick talking with the boy from 2 and his mentor, who I'm pretty sure from recaps of previous Games is called Brutus. The two of them are huge and hulking and practically loom over Finnick and Zayn despite how tall they are.

2 is dressed in golden armor like some ancient warrior. It makes him even more intimidating than he was when I watched the Reapings. Now he not only looks like a killer, but his attire names him as one.

This makes me ridiculously and inexplicably nervous and don't want to go join them, but a nudge from behind me and the shooing hands of my Prep Team tell me I shouldn't be, that I'm a District 4 tribute and belong among the other Careers.

I'm about to walk forward when Galatea gives me another push and calls to Finnick.

All four men turn and look at me. Brutus looks for only a moment before turning to glare at Finnick, he clearly thinks something's awry. The boy from 2 lazily looks me up and down, his eyes stopping in all the wrong places and when I fidget to try and cover myself up some more a wicked smirk adorns his face. I quickly look at Zayn who smiles politely and gives me a thumbs up. I notice Finnick smiling as he watches it all happen. The wheels in his head are turning and devising some sort of plan, probably one I won't approve of.

"Very nice, Galatea. You captured my idea wholly," Finnick calls before turning back to his conversation with the other mentor.

Galatea smiles graciously and helps me walk, although it feels more like a wobble, over to the chariot. I feel lightheaded and am thankful for her support in case I trip or faint.

Once I'm securely placed in the chariot, Galatea leaves and Zayn walks over. The boy from 2 watches him go before looking back at me. He's so unnerving. Then he turns and walks over to his chariot where his partner and the kids from 1 are waiting, a pack already formed.

I look over at Zayn and flash him a smile. He's dressed as a pirate with a large, black hat, boots, and overcoat. His shirt is almost all the way unbuttoned, exposing his chest. I want to giggle at how ridiculous it is, but refrain because, despite that, he's still attractive and, more importantly, I don't want him laughing at my attire.

"Are you my jolly sailor bold?" I ask with a teasing tone in my voice.

Zayn grins as he looks at me and I know he recognizes the sea song I was referencing. All kids in 4 grow up hearing the songs belted out by the sailors when they come in at the end of the day. "Alas, I am, my dear. Has your heart been struck by Cupid?" he dramatically cries with a waggle of his eyebrows as he jumps onto the chariot and pulls me into his arms.

I laugh and shake my head.

"You look lovely," he says, releasing me. "Exactly like I always imagined a mermaid would."

"Thank you," Finnick says, jumping up on the chariot with us before casually leaning up against the edge. "I've always found that the word lovely describes me best, although the mermaid comparison is new." He grins and Zayn and I roll our eyes. "You're in, Zayn. Just like we planned. Do well in training tomorrow and you may even hold rank above the District 1 girl."

Zayn's chest puffs out slightly. He's clearly pleased with this news. "Congratulations," I say and I genuinely mean it. If this means Zayn will be safe and protected then I'm all for it because no matter how badly I want to get home, I want him to make it as well. We've bonded over the last day and the thought of him dead makes me feel ill.

I hear Finnick clicking his tongue and turn to look at him, thoroughly confused. What was wrong with Zayn becoming a Career? It's what we usually do. Finnick himself had done it ten years ago.

"Congratulations," he says, "are in order for you too, cupcake. Cato can't keep his eyes off of you."

My brow furrows. Who's Cato? I glance around the room, but the only eyes I see on me are 2's. Why would Finnick want me to catch his eye? He's just another tribute, not some sponsor who can give me gifts and save me. Unless… and it clicks. The boy from 2 is meant to be my ticket to the end in Finnick's version of the Games. That's why I'm standing here half-naked.

"No," I say, my voice steely. "No. He's a monster, Finnick."

Finnick smirks. "Monsters survive in these games, cupcake. Best to win the worst of them over early on."

I shake my head. There's no way I'm going to go along with this. If I win or die it's going to be of my own merit. Not because some hulking man saved me in exchange for sex. I look over at the boy again. As attractive as he is, he's still a savage who was raised and trained to thrive on killing others. He isn't human and I refuse to sell my soul for a couple more days or a less painful death.

As if he sensing my staring, Cato turns and looks at me. I watch as he slides his arm around the girl from 1 and turns away from me. Looks like Finnick's plan is a flop before it's even really begun.

"It's tiiime!" Galatea calls as she marches towards us. "Finnickin, away. Nicaea, stand up straight and tall, love, like we talked about. Remember to smile." The chariot starts to move forward and Galatea keeps pace with it as she continues to bark out orders. "Wave and act gracious. You're glad to be here and take part in the Games. You're proud to represent your district. But don't forget to be playful! Zayn, dear, you know what to do. I know Helena discussed it with you."

I look nervously at Zayn. Now's the time. We're about to enter the stage for the first act of the play. I hope with everything in me that we're good enough.

Zayn's face is worried and he sucks on his bottom lip as he looks out of the stables at the crowds. They're deafening and more than a little intimidating. Their screams are echoing off of the concrete walls and I want to cover my ears so badly, but I don't. I lean forward and wrap my arms around Zayn, my comrade and partner in this, and smile at him.

"Let's do this."

He grins down at me and holds me tight for a moment. I feel safe and protected for the first time since my name's been drawn. This hug has given me confidence. We can do this.

As we part, the chariot rolls forward and Zayn and I smile with everything we've got as the Capitol citizens scream their welcomes. I hear our names, the previous tributes names, and district numbers being chanted among the clamor.

I feel Zayn's arm slide around my waist and I look at him with questioning eyes although I'm very careful not to let my smile slide off my face. It's impossible to tell what he's trying to communicate, but I assume this is part of our mentor's rouse so I go along with it and wrap an arm around him before turning and waving at the crazed people all around me.

* * *

As soon as the chariot is safely stopped back in the stables, I leap down and kick off the high heels Galatea had me put in. Even though I didn't do much walking, my feet are extremely sore and I'd be willing to do anything for a foot massage and a hot shower.

I groan when my feet touch the cool, marble floor. That alone feels heavenly. I close my eyes and luxuriate in the moment before Zayn tugs on my hand.

"Come on, let's find Finnick and Mags."

I can't see anyone I recognize amid the sea of tributes, stylists, and mentors that are crowded around, but Zayn seems to know where he's going so I mindlessly follow.

When we reach them, Ophelia's blabbering as quickly as she can about how wonderful/spectacular/amazing/beautiful we were. Mags smiles at us and pulls us in for a hug, telling us that we did very well. Finnick has a wicked grin etched on his face as he looks over our shoulders.

My eyes follow his to see the boy from 2 is staring and he doesn't look very happy. His eyes are narrowed and his fists are clenched as tightly as his jaw as he whispers something to his mentor. Zayn follows my stare and glares, tightening the grip on my hand.

"Let's go upstairs," Mags suggests.

I turn and nod. I want away from that hate-filled look I'm getting and the only place away from that is upstairs where I assume our rooms are.

We follow Mags in a line over to the elevators and clamber inside. Just before the doors close and whisk us away, I chance a glance over in the direction of Cato to see him still watching me, his eyes full of loathing.


	4. Something About Chocolate

**I was curious if anyone wanted to know how I picture the cast. If you're not, I totally understand. I hate knowing I'm picturing things differently than the author and I tend to opt for not knowing too. Just let me know and I'll act accordingly.**

**Thank you to Andrea71, Finger bang bang, and HarryPotterFreakie for reviewing. It totally made my day to see that and the favorites and follows. So awesome! :) You guys are all amazing.**

**So here's the next chapter, hope you guys like it.**

* * *

The next morning I wake up to Mags gently shaking me awake. "Best to get up now that way you aren't late for your first day of training," she says gently. "You've got about an hour and there's breakfast in the kitchen."

I nod mutely before rolling over and crawling out of bed and into the shower. I try using cold water to wake myself up. It had been a long night. There had been more nightmares along the same lines as the past few nights. This time though I'd been in my mermaid costume and completely unable to run away when the District 1 and 2 kids came hunting for me. Zayn and Cato had watched while the others tore into me with knives.

With a shiver, I climb out of the stall and get dressed in the clothes left out on my bed for me. They're pretty plain. Black with some red and gray detailing and a number four emblazoned on my shoulder in white. The pants and shirt are a little tighter than I'd like, but the shoes are extremely comfortable, which I find myself thankful for after my high heels last night.

When I walk into the kitchen, I see a similar lay-out to the one on the train yesterday morning. There's a vast amount of food, Mags sipping coffee, Ophelia prattling on about gossip in the Capitol, and Finnick and Zayn stuffing their faces. The only difference is the two stylists added on to one side of the table.

I take my seat beside Zayn and begin loading my plate up.

"Oh, Nicci, I was just telling everyone, you and Zayn are the talk of the town! Everyone absolutely loved your costumes!" Ophelia squeals. She turns to our stylists, beaming at them. "Dressing them up as a mermaid and a pirate was a stroke of absolute genius, ladies!"

"Actually," Finnick chimes in, "that was my idea."

Ophelia looks both appalled and amazed. Although whether it's from Finnick's "stroke of absolute genius" or the fact that his mouth was overflowing with food when he spoke, I can't be sure. "Well, either way, it was brilliant. If only District 12 hadn't been so showy."

Galatea and the other stylist glower, clearly not pleased at being outdone, and I work on shoveling as many eggs into my mouth as I can that way I don't have to talk.

Silence reigns for a couple minutes before Mags gives a little cough. We all look up at her and she gives Finnick a look. "Tell them their plans for the day."

Finnick places his fork on the table and daintily wipes his mouth. "Today," he says with an overly dramatic tone to his voice, "you begin your training. Zayn, your goal is to focus on weapons. You have your foot in the door with the Careers, but you're really going to have to sell it in order to get all the way in. Practice throwing spears, they're close to tridents, and work on lifting heavy things." He turns to me. "Cupcake, I want you to focus on survival skills. You're too nice to be a Career so you're going to have to survive on your own."

I glower at him. "What happened to 'winning over the monster'?" I ask, deepening my voice to imitate him.

"First, I do not sound like an imbecile. Second, I thought my plan was the worst ever thought of."

I nod, recalling our argument from last night when he'd told me his plan for me in the Arena was to be Cato's little plaything. "It is. It won't work, but I didn't see you admitting that any time soon."

I look over at Ophelia who's stammering as pieces click together in her head. "Winning over the monster? Finnick, you weren't thinking of having Nicaea use her body to get through the Games were you?" Surprisingly, she sounds horrified. I figured most people in the Capitol would approve of tributes being all over each other in the Arena.

"It was my original plan," he says simply. He inspects a sugar cube before popping it into his mouth. "Plan's changed though. Since she's too pious to do that, she has to go about it the old fashioned way- roughing it alone." His blue-green eyes lock with mine. "Although I'm sure Cato wouldn't mind if she changed her mind."

Ophelia sighs dreamily. "He _is_ gorgeous. If I were in the Arena, that's what I'd be doing. All day long." I watch disgusted as her eyes glaze over and she begins mumbling mostly incoherent things about what she'd "like to do to that body". Galatea snorts and I resist the urge to roll my eyes when she says something about chocolate.

Mags ends up saving us from any more details about how Ophelia would spend her time in the Arena by telling us it's time to go.

As Zayn and I are entering the elevator to go downstairs, Finnick hollers a reminder at us. "Weapons for Zayne; survival for Nicaea."

I roll my eyes and watch as Zayne hits the button for the training floor.

"Ready for this?" he asks, his gray eyes boring into mine.

I shake my head. "You?"

He shakes his as well. Good to know I'm not the only one.

"Did Finnick discuss strategy with you yet?"

He shakes his head again. "I don't think he has it all figured out, like he wants us to think he does. He might have been close, but then you threw a kink in it all by refusing to sleep with Cato."

I shudder at the thought.

"Cold?" Zayn asks.

"No, just petrified."

When the doors ding open, we walk into the training room together and stand on circles engraved in the floor with our district and gender written on it. These circles make up a huge ring on the floor, just like in the Arena. I nibble on my bottom lip. The Arena is everywhere. There's no escaping it.

After all the tributes arrive, a woman named Atala steps forward to tell us the rules we're to follow during training. When we're dismissed, I walk over to the fire-making station. I'll be a good girl today and follow Finnick's orders. At least, until I come up with a better plan.

I spend the morning mastering the art of fire-making. It's difficult, but eventually I manage to light a fire both with a flint and by using two rocks. Hopefully I'll have a flint in the Arena because I won't want to spend an hour trying to light one with rocks there. In all honesty, I doubt I could make a fire like that again.

At lunch I sit beside Zayn because he makes me. I don't say much though. I don't have anything to say to the Careers. I'm not going to be one of them and honestly, I'd rather be sitting at another table with the other loner tributes that clearly aren't in alliances either.

"Not much of a talker, is she, Zayn?" I hear Marvel, the male tribute from 1, say.

I look up at him and glare.

He laughs and smiles maliciously at me. "I wouldn't piss me off, fish girl. I could toss a spear at you five seconds in."

I hear a growl and look around. I can't tell if it's from Zayn, Cato (which surprises me), or both, which surprises me even more. Zayn's protective because he's my partner. Cato has no reason to be though, unless he wants me to be his kill. Ugh, he probably does.

He and I lock eyes. His are dark and icy and I want to look away, but I can't. I can't help but notice that they're the exact same shade as Keenan's when he's upset. Would Keenan look like this when he grows up? My throat tightens at the thought, the odds of me finding out what my baby brother will be like aren't in my favor and the next sentence confirms it.

"I told you, Marvel, she's mine," Cato says. His voice is a deep rumble, very masculine. If he'd been saying anything other than my death sentence, it'd probably be pleasant to listen to.

But no, I was right. Cato wants to kill me himself. Why? I'll never know, but that's how he sees this ending, with me as another tally below his name.

It seems like that's all they talk about. Killing. They have it all figured out. Each of them has at least two picked out that they want to slaughter. Clove, the girl from 2, has even figured out how she wants to kill her two, right down to the last slit across the throat and I've heard her talk about it twice now. These people are killers and they're chomping at the bit to prove themselves.

I turn to Zayn. I need away from them. "I'm going to go train some more," I whisper. I only stick around long enough for him to look at me with concern in his eyes before getting up and heading back into the room.

There's no one at the pool, which I really want to jump in, but know better than to do that; no one at any of the survival stations; and none of the Careers are possessively lurking at the weapons station like they have been all day. It's empty in here. There's no one talking about killing or the Games or who will have the most sponsors. It's nice.

I meander around aimlessly. There are a lot of weapons hanging on the racks, I think as I walk closer. Knives, swords, spears, a bow and arrows, a scythe, a mace, some shiny metal stars, and, I note with a smile, a trident. Zayn and I might just stand a chance.

My fingers itch to close around the metal shaft of the weapon, to feel the familiar weight in my hand. I resist the urge though and cast one last, longing look at it. I'll leave lunch even earlier tomorrow and come practice. Just in case I can get my hands on one later.

As soon as I reach the camouflage station, I know I made the right decision. The Careers are piling in, laughing and shoving each other. You'd think this was some sort of reunion the way they carry on.

I turn my back to them and begin trying to paint my arm to match the log sitting in front of me.

* * *

"Take Nicaea with you," Finnick calls to him right before he gets to the elevator.

I see Zayn's shoulders drop and I instantly feel bad. He doesn't need me tagging along like some sort of annoying little sister. I'll only hold him back and make him look weak. He can't have that. He needs to put his best foot forward and, in order to do that, it probably wouldn't hurt to put some extra distance between the two of us.

"I'm staying here, Finnick, and reading," I say, holding up my book.

My mentor just shakes his head. "No, you're going to go with Zayn and read."

"No," I say, "I'm staying here, on this couch, and I'm going to read the rest of this book. Besides, Zayn doesn't need or want me tagging along."

"Go," he says, "and I'll take you swimming later."

My eyes flit to Finnick's face. It would be really nice to go swim and just let everything go, but I shake my head. Zayn sacrificed his lunch so I will sacrifice my swimming. "I'll get Mags or someone to show me where I can later." My eyes return to my reading, back to a couple of star-crossed lovers in Venice. "Have fun, Zayn."

The elevator doors ding closed and just like that I'm alone with my mentor again.

"Why won't you listen to me?" he asks, leaning towards me from his seat.

"Why won't you tell me what the plan is?" I shoot back. I'm so frustrated with him. After spending my day trying to master small, menial tasks under his orders, I've pent up a lot of anger against the redhead. It's my future and I have no idea how it's going to come together.

He hastily runs his fingers through his hair. "It's simple. I want you to be the new Johanna. You play yourself off as weak and you bide your time. Then, when the time's right, you kill everyone else."

I wrinkle my nose up at that. I don't want to kill people.

He sighs when I look up at him. "I know you don't want to, but you have to and it's the only plausible solution we've come up with." I look guiltily at the floor; he's trying more than I'd credited him with. "I still want you to keep Cato looking though, as a safety precaution. If he likes you, he won't want you dead immediately. Hell, he might even protect you."

I furrow my brows. "Why would he protect me? He said earlier today I was his kill."

Finnick's face lights up. He looks happy enough to kiss me.

I set my book down and scoot a little away from him. I'm instantly wary. There's something inherently wrong with how happy my death sentence has made him. "What?"

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. "My job just got a lot easier, cupcake."

My nose wrinkles up again and I glare at him. I know he won't explain how his job is easier so I opt for another answer. "Why do you call me that?"

"What?"

"Cupcake. You never call me by my name. I'm always cupcake."

"It's cuz you're small and cute. Like a little cake."

I blush. One of the most gorgeous men in all of Panem just called me cute. No one back home ever really bothered giving me a compliment like that. Castalia was the pretty, older one. The one people were supposed to pay attention to. Once she was married, then the attention would turn to me.

"Come on," he says suddenly as he jumps out of his chair. "We're going to go for a swim. Your swimsuit is in your closet. I'll meet you back here in ten."

He walks down the hall to his room and I watch his head of red hair disappear through the doorway. With a small shake, I get up and follow him. As odd and bipolar as he is, I really want to swim.

My swimsuit is a little, yellow thing. The top ties in the back and the bottoms have to be tied on the sides. Clearly this was male-designed, just like my parade costume. It doesn't cover much and it fits a little snug and I cross my fingers that it won't slip and leave me exposed while we swim. I'd die of embarrassment if it did.

I quickly resecure my bun on top of my head and hurry into the living room to see Finnick waiting for me. He's only got his swimming suit on, a pair of dark blue trunks, and he looks good. Women all across the Capitol would kill for a view like this.

When we emerge from the elevator a few moments later, I feel my whole body freeze. Zayn and the other Careers weren't training downstairs like I'd thought. Or even in the District 1 or 2 suites. No, they were practicing up on the roof and now they're all staring at Finnick and I in our swimming suits.

My whole body shuts down as I stare horrified at them. My eyes lock on Cato who's smirking as his eyes hungrily wander up and down my once again scantily clad body and this time my hair isn't down to partially hide me. I watch as he mouths a word at me. A word that makes my blood run cold.

_Mine._

Through my terror, I feel Finnick grab my hand and cheerily call to them. "Don't mind us; we're just going for a little swim. Poor thing's hopeless in the water. Feel free to join if you want."

He leads me away and I hear snickers and the clanging sound of metal behind me as well as Glimmer, the girl from 1, commenting on how useless I must be if I'm from 4 and can't even swim properly.

The pool on the roof isn't as big as the one in the training facility, but it will work. Finnick grabs a few towels from a rack and places them near the edge of the pool before gesturing for me to hop in.

I dive smoothly into the water and allow it to engulf and caress me. There's something magical about swimming. I've always loved it. When I discovered that I was going to be an aide at the training facility back home, I was so ecstatic I couldn't sleep for two days.

Finnick has me swim a couple laps while he lazily floats around on his back. When I emerge next to him he grins. "If the kids you teach are half as good as you are we'll never have a drowned sailor again."

Glimmer's words come back to me. If only she knew the truth, I think wickedly.

A little later, Finnick and I are in a moderate competition to see who's better at diving. He's just completed a pretty good one off of a nearby table and it's my turn to one-up him. There isn't much to work with to be honest. This pool wasn't built for people to be diving around or into. It probably wasn't even a pool to begin with. It's in the middle of a copse of trees, which leads me to believe it was a decorative fish pond originally.

Something in my mind clicks and I grin wickedly. There's a tree with a branch that hangs out over the pool. If I can shimmy up it, I can dive down into the water with enough time to pull off a good back flip. There won't be any questions about who's better then.

The tree's a little tough to get into and I end up with a few, little scratches from branches or bark where I slipped or it rubbed against my skin, but I make it up the tree and out onto the branch. I can feel Finnick watching me closely.

Our eyes meet.

And I leap backwards into the water.

It's really nothing compared to the cliff diving we do back home, there's not enough height for anything on that level, but I pull off my back flip with relative ease. The water cocoons my fall and when I breach the surface I grin and float on my back.

"What the hell was that?"

My body tenses up and whirls into a standing position so I'm treading water and looking at the person talking.

It's Cato. He and Zayn must have wandered over here while I was distracted with our diving competition. He doesn't look happy. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's scowling.

He can look at me with that vehement glare all he wants though, nothing can bring me down right now. Not while I'm in the water. This is my element. He has his swords and weapons and strength and I have my agility in the pool. I refuse to be intimidated by him in this moment.

"That," I say simply, "was a back flip."

"You said she was hopeless in the water," Cato says, shooting an accusing look at my mentor.

"Hopelessly good," Finnick replies coolly. He's leaned up against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks irritated and I'm almost certain it's at me. I should have known better than to show off like that with the Careers so close by. I've ruined everything. Our one plan has failed us. "Come on, Nic. Let's get you inside." He offers me a hand out of the pool and a towel to cover up in. I'm then ushered towards the elevators.

As we walk past Cato he grabs my arm and pulls me close to him. So close that my wet hair is dripping on his clothes and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I look up at his face, which is mere inches from mine. If he wasn't snarling, he would be incredibly handsome I realize with shock. This would almost be like a scene from one of those old books my mother used to read.

Except the men in those books didn't make your arm hurt. Or whisper awful things in your ear that shake your confidence down to the core.

"Water won't be able to protect you. And neither will your partner. I'll kill him first." He leans closer to my ear as Finnick demands he let me go. "I'll make you watch." With a final brush of his lips to my ear, he shoves me into Finnick's arms.

I cower there, shaking. Whether it's from the cold air on my wet skin or what I've just been told, I can't entirely say.

I just want to go home.


	5. Alliances

**You guys make me so unbelievably happy. I'm literally jumping up and down in my seat right now. Seriously. You all are ah-mazing. :) Thank you all so much for favoriting, following, and reviewing.**

**Here's the next chapter, I hope you guys like it.**

* * *

The next day of training is more of the same. I spend the morning identifying berries with the girl from 5. Originally, we were working separately, but after a while we sort of gravitated towards each other.

She has red hair and freckles that cover her slightly long nose. Her eyes, her most stunning feature, are a golden brown and gleam with intelligence; intelligence that I'm able to witness firsthand at this station. She's amazing at identification and even knows some of the healing herbs that the instructor shows us.

After a while, I introduce myself. I feel obligated to; this girl's been helping teach me important things that will help keep me alive in the arena and this station's so small that it'd be rude not to.

I subtly glance over her. "I'm Nicaea," I say softly as I debate on which of the berries is the safe one. The berries the instructor placed on the table are both a darker shade of blue. One is nightlock and the other is a harmless blueberry and I honestly can't tell which is which.

She nods in recognition. Of course, I'm supposed to be a Career tribute, mentors would have had their tributes taking note of me. "I'm Finch," she says.

I point at a berry and I hear Finch click her tongue. She's shaking her head. I chose wrong. She grabs the blueberry and pops it in her mouth. "That's the nightlock." She gestures to the remaining berry. "If you look at the top, at the stem, you can see it's a darker green than the other."

Sure enough, it is.

"Also, the berry is just a little darker too. With berries, darker typically means it's dangerous."

We go back to identifying with her gently guiding me through it and the instructor nodding in agreement when we identify correctly.

"So why aren't you with the Careers?" she asks after a few minutes.

After popping a strawberry in my mouth, I shrug. "I don't want to win that way."

Finch makes a face when she eats a purple berry. It's clearly much more sour than she anticipated. "Winning is winning. Does it really matter how you do it?"

"When I get home-" I pause and correct myself "-if I get home, I don't want people to look at me differently. Winning with the Pack is the typical way we do it, but those people are never looked at in the same way ever again." I point at a red berry and Finch and the instructor shake their heads. I'm clearly awful at identification. "I want to get back to my family, they're my reason to win. I don't want them treating me differently."

Something passes over her face. Understanding maybe? "I want to get back to my family too. I want to see my little sister again."

We then pass the time talking about our families. Finch's younger sister is called Sparrow. They were named after the birds her mother loved to watch whenever she had free time. Her father passed away when she was little and her mother works as a system analyst, whatever that is, in order to support them. I was intrigued by all the technical jargon she was throwing around, but I didn't question it because I knew no matter how much she tried to explain, it would never make any sense.

When talk turned to me and my District, she was fascinated by the concept of the sea and in awe of all my siblings. Apparently it's weird to have so many kids in 5. I tell her it's normal in 4 and I realize with a start that it's only normal because we can afford to do that. I knew the different Districts had varying amounts of money, but it had never translated to something as basic as having children.

She talks about the fear of getting Reaped and how she has no idea how to use any kind of weapon; she's had to pick up on a lot of stuff here in Training. Identification is the only thing she knows how to do and that's because she played in the woods as a child.

I promise to show her knot tying. It's the least I can do after she's helped me with the berries so much. She seems pleased with this deal and promises to help me with the berries some more later.

We exchange a smile and I start to feel good about the Games for the first time. This could lead to an alliance in the Arena. One I won't regret having later on.

Lunch is again a forced affair with the Careers. I tried telling Zayn that I wanted to eat with Finch, but he didn't seem to care and mumbled something about Finnick before dragging me over. I sent Finch a sympathetic look and mouthed "knots" to her as I was dragged away. She seemed to understand.

I pick at my food as everyone around me gobbles theirs up and once again talk loudly about how they're going to kill tributes. Today Marvel is the worst. He seems fond of the idea of throwing a spear at people while they run and watching them go down like an animal. I fight the urge to call him an animal. He'd probably take it as a compliment though so I hold my tongue.

Cato and I meet eyes a few times. I wonder if he's told the others about my little diving scene yesterday on the roof. He probably has, but no one's commented on it so I can't be sure.

As if reading my thoughts, Zayn leans over and whispers in my ear, "I asked him not to."

I look at Zayn's gray eyes. He's protecting me and Cato, by extension, is helping me as well. I bitterly realize that Finnick might be right. That sticking by or near Cato might be my best shot at survival.

The thought is quickly repressed when Cato begins talking about how he wants to kill me. Apparently I'm still one of his two selected kills.

He smirks when he says the word.

He takes literal joy in uttering it.

I'm sure he even takes pleasure in the sick pet name he's given me.

"I'll drown you, babe."

His icy blue eyes bore into mine. There's a playful note in them, he clearly enjoys this clever way of tormenting me. He knows it means I'll want to avoid the water in the Arena, which could lead to my early death by dehydration. He also knows how ironic it would be. The girl from the Fishing District, the girl who dives out of trees to swim in small ponds, the mermaid killed by her own element.

"You'll have to catch me first," I say before leaving and going back into the Training Room.

This time, I don't fight the urge to throw the trident at the dummies. In my mind they're all Cato and I want them all to die slow, excruciatingly painful deaths. I start out ok, hitting most of my targets as my body readjusts to throwing something that heavy, but by the end my eyes so blurred with angry tears that I'm not even close to hitting them any longer.

An arm wraps around my waist and I let myself be held for a moment. Closing my eyes, my head falls back on his chest and I let a couple tears slide down my cheeks. I know I'm not just angry. I'm terrified at the thought of dying. I'm terrified at how real it's all gotten today.

"I'm so scared, Zayn," I whisper. "I don't want to die."

Hands reach up and brush away my tears.

He leans in close to my ear, his lips brushing against it. "Final Two, babe," he whispers, his voice deep and husky. "Keep yourself alive and we can be the last two standing."

A panic sets in over me as my eyes snap open. This isn't Zayn come to comfort me. There isn't the lemony scent from his shower that I smelled this morning before we came down to train. These aren't the familiar arms that woke me up from my nap yesterday when the nightmares caused me to cry out. No. This isn't the kid from my district. This is the brute from 2 that's claimed my death as his. I don't know how to react so I just stay silent, frozen.

"Throw the trident again," he commands.

When I don't move, he leans forward and grabs one off a nearby rack. He doesn't let go of my waist though. We're still pressed together, sickeningly close.

He sets the trident in my hands. It feels heavy and unfamiliar, the metal cold. I don't want to throw it. I don't want to make a fool of myself and I don't want him to know exactly what I'm capable of. I'm stuck in a stalemate.

"Go on," the District 2 tribute whispers in my ear, his voice coaxing me to throw it. "I know the game you're playing at. I know you're faking it all. Show me what you can really do and I'll guarantee you second place."

I step out of his embrace and he lets me go. I face him, the weapon still in my hands. He's so much bigger than me. "Are you really in a position to bargain like that?" My voice sounds shaky and I'm upset that it isn't under my control. I can't sound weak right now.

"I'm the leader of the Career Pack. I think I can promise the position to whoever I want." He crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles bulge and move as he flexes. He could snap my neck without a second thought if he wanted to.

"What about Clove? She's your partner."

This makes him pause. His mouth opens slightly like he's about to protest, but I beat him to the punch.

"What about Glimmer? You seem awfully close with her. You two were all over each other yesterday."

His eyes are narrowing at me now. I've struck a nerve.

"How am I supposed to believe that you're going to guarantee me, the outcast, second place?" I know I shouldn't push him. I know I should have just thrown the spear and taken his offer, but I'm on a roll now. "Why shouldn't I believe you won't just screw me over in the end?"

Cato takes a step towards me and I have to tilt my head back to see his face now, which I don't like. It just shows how much more powerful than me he is. "I think I proved that I won't screw you over. If I was going to, I'd have told the others about your little display last night."

I feel my face drop. He really didn't tell. He begins walking away from me, back to his Pack and the lunchroom, taking his deal with him. "Why?"

"Why what?" He sounds exasperated, but he turns to look back at me.

"Why didn't you tell them?"

"I don't want you dead yet."

He begins to walk away again when I throw the trident. It lands in the dummy's stomach with a thump before toppling over. My gaze goes back to him. He's smiling at me. Not smirking like usual, but genuinely smiling.

"I knew you weren't useless."

Then I'm truly alone and I scurry off to collect my weapons and put them back before anyone else comes in and begins to wonder just what went on in here.

* * *

That night I tell Finnick about Finch.

"I want an alliance with her."

He sighs. "You can't have an alliance with her. That's not in the plan."

"She's smart, Finnick. You should have seen her today. She knows every berry at the station and she picked up on knots and snares like it was nothing. If there's anything funky or off about the Arena, she'll be the first to figure it out."

Finnick just shakes his head. "No, Nic. It's not safe. Those people turn on you. They're slippery. They can't be trusted."

There's no way I'm giving up on this though. "We'll separate before that happens. When the numbers get low we'll go different ways. But you have to admit there's safety in numbers. Two people stand a better chance of surviving than one person alone."

"Speaking of two people, Zayn mentioned something about you and Cato today." He's trying to distract me and, when I don't respond, he goads me some more with one simple word. "Alone."

I refuse to look at him, instead taking in the mint and turquoise color palate of the living room.

"Nic…"

My eyes soak in the ocean painting on the wall, then the large window showing the city landscape - the bright lights and tall buildings, the cars zipping by on the roads below.

"If you don't tell me, I'm just going to have to assume things."

Next are the two couches. They're squashy and comfortable, short and brown with pillows matching the paint on the walls. Then the glass table between us gets a once over. It's so short and really only meant to set cups and decorations on. Today it's a jar with sand, seashells, and starfish in it. Yesterday it had little goldfish. Part of me wonders where they are now.

"They won't be pleasant things."

Finally, I look up at his sea green eyes. "He wants to kill me, Finnick."

He sighs. "We know that, Nic. There are at least 22 people in this building that want to kill you."

"He wants to drown me," I say, my eyes watering again. I don't know why this detail bothers me so much. Maybe it's the thought of water betraying me like that.

Finnick's face scrunches up and he moves to sit beside me, his arms wrapping around me in a friendly embrace. "It'll be alright. He won't really do that." I know he's lying though, trying to shield me from the truth.

I let him. I don't want to think about that. I'm certain that if I beat him to the water, I can outswim Cato or any other tribute for that matter, but if I'm taken off-guard I'm done for. And I'm sure I'll be taken off-guard.

Finnick holds me as the tears overflow. He strokes my hair and whispers comforting words in my ear until I'm all cried out. We lay there on the couch, the two of us holding each other and feeling the realness of the other. This is the only reality, not the one I've been imagining where Cato or the others are trying to kill me, to drown me. His heartbeat is steady and I try to match his slow and even breathing.

After a few minutes, when I know I'm done and all cried out, I tell him what else happened today. "He promised me the Final Two."

This seems to surprise Finnick and he moves so we're both sitting up. His eyes bore into mine, looking to tell if I'm lying. Then he grabs my face and kisses me very quickly on both cheeks. He's absolutely ecstatic. He shakes my face and pushes my cheeks forward, making my lips puff out like a fish. "We've done it, Nicci! We've done it! Tell me everything."

So I do and when I've relayed everything his grin gets bigger.

"You are golden. Let's go for a celebratory swim."

My whole body tenses up. The Careers are on the roof training again. Cato is up there. Cato who wants to drown me. I can't go for a swim. Not today. No matter how comforting the water might be.

Finnick recognizes this after a second. "How about celebratory ice cream instead?" he asks.

I nod eagerly, thankful that he understands me; thankful that he cares.

I had ice cream for the first time last night at dinner and I loved it. The icy cold feel on my tongue and the rich, creaminess filling my mouth, that stuff was heavenly. The kind Finnick brings in tonight is even better. It's covered in chocolate with bits of fruit dribbled on top.

About halfway through our meal, my Prep Team walks into the room. They've been popping in and out the last couple days whenever the fancy strikes them. Every time I've seen them they've been in some ridiculous outfit and today is no exception. Hera and Leto appear to be dressed as gold and fuchsia mermaids and Gerard is dressed in black pirate garb.

I raise an eyebrow at them as another spoonful of frozen heaven reaches my mouth. Have they intentionally mimicked Zayn and I?

"Oh, Nicci," Leto exclaims as she throws her small body onto the couch beside me. "You and Zayn have started a clothing craze!"

"People all over the Capitol are dressed up like mermaids," Hera trills before stealing a bite of my ice cream.

"You're the talk of the town!" Leto exclaims.

Gerard calmly takes a seat beside Finnick on the other couch and smiles politely at me with a small nod. The fact that Gerard is always so calm is extremely comforting. The two girls are fun and exciting and I've begun bonding with them, but there's a lack of sincerity with them. Gerard's seriousness makes everything he does seem more genuine, like when he gave me his jacket the night of the Parade. It's as if he actually cares what happens to me, as if I'm not just another tribute to him.

Hera steals another bite of my ice cream before continuing on about some party they've just come from where people dressed up as their favorite tributes from the Parade. "There were so many mermaids! Everywhere you looked!"

"As far as the eye could see!" Leto adds excitedly.

They've both migrated so they're sitting on opposite sides of me, their bodies turned so that they're facing me and, as they get more and more excited, they lean closer.

"There were a few warriors," Hera states bitterly as she falls back on the arm of the couch.

"And silver people."

"And a few fools tried to light themselves on fire!"

This gets a chuckle from Finnick. I can't help but smile as well, Capitol people are so ridiculous.

"Anyway," Leto says, "how was training today? Any big stories?" She goes around to the back of the couch and begins taking my hair out of its now-standard bun. I've discovered that she enjoys messing with my hair. She played with it yesterday when she was here too.

"How was Cato?" Hera giggles, her violet eyes piercing into mine. She has a huge crush on him. I'm certain 90% of the women in the Capitol do, and quite a few men too. He is their golden boy after all.

"Oh," Finnick says, "Cato was fantastic today. Wasn't he, darling?"

I glare at him. He knows I don't want to talk about Cato. "Cato was fine. He was stabbing things with his sword all day, same as yesterday."

Hera sighs and mumbles something about liking swords, especially big ones.

"And you?" Leto asks again. Craning to look at my face as she braids my hair.

"It was alright. I worked on berries and edible food this morning, which I'm hopeless at. Then I worked on knots and snares, which went a lot better." I meet eyes with Finnick's again. "What am I supposed to work on tomorrow?"

"It sounds like you need to work on berries some more, but you'll have required training in the morning. They'll test your agility and speed. Whether you can dodge targets and climb things. It'll count towards your final score," he says, taking a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. "Then, after lunch, will be when you perform. So there probably won't be much time for that."

I nod. It sounds like another busy, busy day tomorrow.

* * *

**So, as a sort of "Happy Easter" present I'm going to post a little teaser snippet on my profile of the next chapter sometime tomorrow. :)**

**Thanks again for reading, guys. I'll post for you again sometime next Saturday.**


	6. Grinning Like an Imbecile

**Here we are again. Another Saturday, another chapter. And look at me! It's up before noon! :)**

**Anyway, lots of action in this one, lots of Cato angst.**

**Also, muchas gracias to Cookie Seller On The Dark Side, HarryPotterFreakie, and Guest for reviewing as well as to everyone who favorited and followed. :) Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

The obstacle course is huge. The first part is netting that we're supposed to climb up, across, and then down. The horizontal climb looks iffy, like it could flip over easily. Once we're back on solid ground, we're supposed to swing across some bars one by one, land, and continue to the next phase. Then we're supposed to jump from one platform to the next while cushioned javelins are tossed at us. If we're hit or we fall down, time is added to our score and we're expected to get back up until we finish. Expected to doesn't mean we will though, I don't see the boy from 10, who has a limp to begin with, finishing the course.

Atala tells us we have one hour before the required training on the course will begin and that we can practice a couple times before then if we'd like.

Finch and I lock eyes. Is it worth it?

She nods and I return it. Just because I'm supposed to play myself off as weak doesn't mean I don't want to know what I'm up against.

We head off to the food station again as some of the younger tributes try their hand at the course and the Careers troop off to go practice weapons- of course they don't feel the need to practice.

Finch and I sit cross-legged in the grass and she begins quizzing me on edible foods. A white, root-like plant is my current objective.

"Katniss?" I ask.

Finch nods before quirking her head to the side in thought. "I wonder if Girl on Fire was named after it."

It's what we, as well as the rest of the Capitol, have taken to calling her. It's easier for us because it puts distance between ourselves and her. That and she's hard to like; she never smiles, except at her District Partner, and she refuses to talk to anyone. It's like she thinks she's better than all of us.

"The course is clear," Finch whispers after a minute. She leans forward to peer around me at it to make sure it's completely empty. "The Careers are lurking close-by, but I doubt they'll pay us much attention. Too busy watching Compensation swing his sword around."

Compensation, of course, is Cato. Finch insists on calling him this due to her belief that he's lacking below the belt and thinks toting around large swords will make that feel like less of a loss. The first time she called him that I burst into a fit of giggles. The thought of the Capitol women's faces at the realization being more than I could stand.

I turn and look too and sure enough that's what they're doing. "Let's go for it. We'll be able to climb right over them and they won't even notice us."

We move out as a unit, easily slipping around to the beginning of the course. Finch and I exchange a look. Who will go first? I know she'll want to watch and learn, then improve from there. That's how she functions, as an analyst like her mother. So, just as I'm about to volunteer, she says, "Lower district's first!" and jumps back to allow me space to begin.

I stick my tongue out at her and begin climbing. The netting's similar to those on the ships back home which means it's easy to climb, but I take my time just in case anyone's watching. I can't forget the aura I'm supposed to be projecting.

At the top, I test the netting before crawling out. If I don't move too quickly or too suddenly, it shouldn't flip over, but I'm still nervous and hold on to the rope tightly as I crawl forward.

Somehow, this plan fails me and, halfway across, I'm flipped over and clinging on to the rope with the tips of my fingers. I bite my lip as I try and swing my legs up, but I gain too much momentum and end up losing what little grip I had. My mind is barely able to register my scream of surprise before I feel my body naturally tensing for impact with the ground.

That impact never comes though, at least not with the ground. Instead my body collides with another one. There's a clash as metal hits the ground and arms wrap tight around me. I don't dare to open my eyes though, not until I'm sure I'm not going to cry, that my emotions are in check.

When I do, I wish I hadn't because, looking directly down at me, are the icy blue eyes of Cato. He has a sickeningly smug smirk plastered on his face, which makes me realize that I wrapped my arms so tightly around his neck after he caught me that I'm literally clinging to him. My body doesn't want to move though. Despite his general repulsiveness as a Career, there's a sense of safety and protection.

Someone coughs and I feel my face turning red, making his smirk only grow wider.

"You can put me down," I whisper, looking down.

He lets go of my knees but keeps an arm around my upper body. We're pressed chest to chest, so close I can feel his steady heartbeat. I look up into his eyes. There's no denying how attractive he is with his blonde hair spiked up away from his face and his blue eyes boring into mine. A part of me wants to kiss him.

His hand moves up and brushes a piece of hair out of my face. "Not even in the Arena and I'm saving you. Not a good start, babe." He then looks over my shoulder at someone. "Zayne, take her. She's shaking."

I hadn't even realized my body was trembling.

Zayn gently takes me from his arms and walks with me over to the lunch room. When we pass them, Clove laughs while Glimmer glares at me. She's clearly not pleased with my falling scene and probably thinks it was a set-up. I've probably made it to the top of her list of kills now. Joy. Two Careers out for my blood.

Once I've been oh-so-carefully set down and examined by Dr. Zayn, he narrows his eyes at me. "What the hell was that?" He clearly thinks it was intentional too.

"Finch and I were testing out the course. The top part isn't totally secure and it flips easy. I was crawling across and it flipped. I don't know how or why, but it did and I fell." He still doesn't look convinced and I let out an aggravated sigh. "Fine, don't believe me. Even though we both know that I'm trying my best to stay as far away from him as possible."

He leans back on his heels and his gray eyes soften a bit. "I know. I know you don't really like him and it's probably best. As soon as I'm gone they won't have any problems killing you. They'll probably even do it before I'm gone if I'm not careful."

My mind is consumed with two thoughts. First, that Zayn doesn't know that Cato promised me the Final Two, or that he doesn't believe he will. Second, that Zayn is still trying to protect me. I make the decision right then and there that I will do whatever I can to see him as far into the Games as I can manage. I still have to warn him off though. He's playing with fire here and he's bound to end up burned before the end.

"You don't have to protect me, you know. The whole point of me being weak is so I'll go under the radar until it's go time. You could get in trouble."

Zayn wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a tight hug. "You couldn't go under the radar if you tried." He ruffles my hair and goes back to sitting on his heels, he can't get caught being too affectionate with me. "As for trouble, I reckon it'll find me no matter what." He leans back and looks into the Training Room. "I should get back in there. Clove might try and stab me if I don't hurry." Our eyes meet and his are full of worry. "Be careful, Nicaea."

Then he wanders off, back to the Careers and his future.

I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. I'm not going back on that obstacle course until they force me. Even then, I might just take the docking from my score, it'll make failing later even easier.

"Cato looked awfully happy after that fall," Finch says and I feel her body plop down next to me. "He's still grinning like an imbecile."

I glance over at her to see her face contorted in a look of disgust, but her eyes are full of curiosity. I don't like that look. Maybe Finnick was right and she is too smart for my own good.

We get up and begin slowly walking back into the Training Room. She's still looking at me with that curious look riddled in her brown eyes.

When I don't respond to it, she sighs in exacerbation. "Well, what's the story there? You two having some fling I don't know about?"

An eruption of giggles takes over me. Cato and I? A fling? The idea's absolutely ridiculous. Surely Finch is too smart to suspect something like that. Surely everyone is too smart to even consider that as an option. That was just a stupid idea of Finnick's.

The look the girl from 5 gives me says otherwise.

My eyes widen. "No. Not a fling. The only times he's ever touched me has been to tell me that he's going to kill me or to tell me how he's going to kill me or to intimidate me in some newfound way. Besides, Sparkles has her eye on him and vice versa. Where's there room for the weak girl from 4 in that equation?" I speak just slightly louder as we walk past some other tributes that are nearby and obviously listening in. They should all know that there's nothing there otherwise I'll be seen as a threat for no reason. I'll be killed off early.

Sadly, Finch doesn't seem convinced. She situates us in the tall grass near the shelter building station before answering in a low whisper. "If you'd seen the look on his face when he was holding you, you'd know District 1 is the last thing on his mind. If I were you," she says, "I'd use his little crush to my advantage."

This knowledge leaves my mind reeling. Cato can't really like me… can he?

* * *

The obstacle course is a disaster worthy of Finnick praise and idolization. He would have been proud of the way I took javelins to my back and sides… or he better be. Thankfully, Finch told me where I'd gone wrong earlier on the horizontal netting; I crawled too far to the left, making it tip over. This, of course, didn't happen again. I wanted people to think I was bad, not suicidal. I purposefully fell off of the bars once too, just for good measure. It was frustrating, acting this terrible at a course that I now knew I could do pretty easily, but I also knew it was necessary. Being slightly below average was now part of my identity in the Games. It was too late to back out now.

After the course was another lunch with my favorite group of bloodthirsty killers. Glimmer sat next to me and dug her nails into my leg, clearly saying she didn't approve of my earlier incident. If I hadn't been wearing pants, I'm certain my leg would be bleeding now. Cato shoves her away though and takes her place. Stuck between him and Zayn makes me feel tiny and even weaker than I did after essentially failing the course. My mood is quickly spiraling downwards.

The others shovel in food while I pick at my blue pasta. I'm too nervous about the private session to eat too much. I know I don't have to do a whole lot, but there's still a lot of worry tucked away. This is my life at stake.

"Eat," Cato mumbles, nudging my elbow. If it hadn't been for the nudge, I wouldn't have heard what he said, just mistaken it for more contented groans caused by the food.

I shake my head.

Another nudge to the elbow, this time a little more forceful than the last.

Fine, I'll play along. I pop a piece of pasta in my mouth and he smiles before shoving another spoonful of food into his mouth.

The rest of the meal continues in the same way. Me picking and Cato nudging until I take a bite. I know Finch is watching and judging, she's too sharp to miss this and she's already suspicious. I feel slightly ashamed that I've become so easy to push around. Maybe my weakling act isn't entirely an act after all. Maybe deep down I'm not as tough as I believed I once was. Maybe I won't make it home to see my mother, father, and siblings.

"Nicci," Zayn's voice brings me out of my reverie. "Eat a little more. Marvel just got called in."

So it begins.

The process for this is simple. You get called off one-by-one, boy then girl by District number, and you get to show the Gamemakers what you're made of. Everyone at my table will be working hard to show just how good they are. They're going to try to get as close to a 12 as possible while I will be doing very little in the hopes of receiving a lower score. A 4 or 5 would be nice, a 6 even better. The worst part is, if I really wanted to and was allowed to, I know my trident and swimming skills would get me an 8 or 9.

Marvel and Glimmer disappear.

Cato winks at me when it's his turn to go. He's confident and cocky, like Careers are supposed to be.

Clove leaves with a sinister smile. Her hand twitches slightly in her excitement, she's going to be throwing knives.

The two from District 3 follow.

I grab Zayn's hand as the moments pass. I'm practically nauseated with nerves.

His name's called and I reluctantly let go. "Good luck."

He smiles sweetly. "You too."

I watch as he confidently strides off into the Training Room.

Now I'm alone.

Finch and I meet eyes and we try to give each other comforting smiles. Neither of us knows what the other plans to do once inside the Training Room. We just know that the other needs a little reassurance.

When my name's called, she gives me a thumbs up and a smile. I mouth "good luck" and hurry off.

This is it.

The Gamemakers are talking and laughing when I walk in. Being towards the front of these sessions allows me a slight edge I can't take advantage of. They're paying close attention to me. I can feel their eyes on me. The head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, stands front and center with his clipboard in hand.

"Alright, Miss Cosgrove. Let's see what you've got."

I stick with the basics, just like Finnick told me to. I take my time building a small shelter out of sticks and prairie grass, I make a fire with a flint, I tell them which roots will draw out poison and help heal wounds faster. I know I've bored them to death and I watch as they go back to their food and essentially ignore me. It's irksome, but necessary.

After a while they dismiss me. They look disappointed, like they expected more from me. They probably did. I am from a Career district and it isn't unusual for people to hide their strengths until just now. They were probably hoping I'd set a trident on fire and kill five dummies with it or that I'd jump, screaming, from the ceiling and decapitate one. I really don't think I could do that, even if it would be entertaining to see.

I leave the Training Room and get into an elevator flagged by silent Avoxes. I've spent the majority of my time here avoiding them. I feel awful any time I see them. Then I feel worse knowing I'm facing a better fate than they are. It's much better to die a week or two into the Games than live your whole life as a slave to the Capitol with your tongue cut out.

* * *

Finnick, Mags, and Zayn are waiting for me when I enter our floor. They all look so eager, even though they know I didn't do anything spectacular. Even old Mags is practically jumping up and down as she waits for me to talk.

"Well?" Finnick asks, dragging the word out.

"I bored them half to death. I made a fire, built a shelter, and identified some roots. Nothing special, but nothing too awful."

Finnick crows in delight and herds Zayn and I into the living room where the stylists are waiting. They seem extremely pleased and I can't help but wonder what's done it. Probably seeing the three of us tumble onto the couch in a huge pile of smiles, happy and content for a while. They'll have known it's been a long and trying day.

Mags mumbles something about needing a nap and ambles off to her room. I watch her go and feel terrible. She really shouldn't be here. She should be at home enjoying her retirement and her large family. She should be with her husband, enjoying the time they have left together. She's just too old for this.

I snuggle into the couch between Finnick and Zayn as he begins telling us about what he did.

"Well, I knew it'd be tough to show I was as good as the others. Marvel was going to throw spears from twenty yards and stab some things. Glimmer said she was going to use a bow and arrow, although I don't know why. She's awful with it. Cato stabbed stuff and threw things around. And Clove was going to throw knives and mutilate dummies." I shiver. Clove freaks me out. "So I used a trident. I threw from maybe fifteen or sixteen yards and took out two. They really liked that. I think one of the girls giggled. Then I used a knife to sever a rope about ten feet away and hacked at some dummies with a sword." He shrugs. "I think I did pretty well."

Finnick nods. "How about the required course this morning?"

Zayn chuckles. "Well, Nicci made quite the impression there."

I turn and glare at him. How dare he throw me overboard like that!

Worry flashes over Finnick's face. "You didn't do it well, did you? I told you to fall and get hit. I told you you had to suck at it." He sounds frustrated and a little hurt that I didn't listen to him.

"Oh," I say, "I sucked at it."

He quirks an eyebrow and peers at my face. Then he leans in so our noses are almost touching, so close I could count the hundreds of freckles on his face, and he narrows his eyes. "Are you lying to me, Nicaea?"

I sigh dramatically. "No!" We glare at each other for a moment before I continue. "I fell off the bars once and I got hit by javelins three times. If you don't believe me, I have the bruises to prove it."

I do too. There's a large one on my back and two on my right arm. They were a deep purple when I checked them before lunch and they're very sore and sensitive to touch. I was planning on asking for a cream later to help them heal faster.

Another chuckle comes from Zayne. "That wasn't what I was talking about and you know it."

I groan and bury my face in my legs. Why do they all insist on making me relive every moment with that oaf? Don't they know I can't stand it? That it's embarrassing?

"Nicaea?" Finnick's tone is serious. He still doesn't think I'm completely on board with his plan, even after I've told him I purposefully was unsuccessful at today's endeavors. He's so infuriating sometimes.

Well, I can be infuriating too. As a younger sister, I've had lots of practice.

"IwaspracticingandIfellfrompartoftheequipmentandCa tocaughtmeandnowGlimmerhatesme and I'm gonna die!" The first part comes out in a single, knee-muffled breath and I wail out the last four words while I arch my back so I'm practically falling over the back of the couch in a show of true Capitol drama. I turn teary eyes on Finnick and look at him longingly, as though my whole life hangs on the advice he's about to give me.

Finnick's face falls. His mouth moves slowly as he tries to make sense of what I've just said. Finally, he looks at Zayn. "Translation please?"

"She was testing the climbing part of the course. The horizontal net flipped on her and she fell." He pauses for dramatic effect and I bury my face in my lap again. "Right into Cato's waiting arms."

Helena, Zayn's stylist, claps her hands together and lets out a dreamy "aww". I burrow further into my lap. I will not look at them. They will not see how red my face has gotten. I will give them nothing to work with. "He caught her?" she squeals.

I can sense Finnick's beaming. I know he's grinning at me like a kid with a lifetime supply of candy. I know he thinks I did it on purpose.

"We're lucky he dropped his sword, otherwise he'd have impaled her," Zayn says.

Just like that, the room goes silent and all the happiness drains away.

Finnick smacks my back in frustration and I cry out. "I have a bruise there thanks to your stupid plan, Odair!"

We both look at each other, anger and hate radiating from us. He's pissed, but so am I. I'm not backing down. I didn't do a damn thing wrong.

"Did you want to get killed?"

"Yes, Finnick. That's exactly what I wanted- to be impaled before the Games even start."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I wanted to know what to expect from that stupid course and how best to suck at it."

"Are you really that stupid?"

"It was _your_ plan!"

"Do you not care about getting home to your mom and family anymore?" he bellows.

My mouth snaps shut as my eyes well up with tears. How dare he accuse me of that. The only reason I've done any of this is so I can get home and see her. I want to scream at him, hit him, rip his pretty boy face off, but I can't. So I do the next best thing, I bolt for the hallway and my room.

There's just enough time for me to slam and lock the door before Finnick's pounding on it.


	7. Mad Girl

**Thank you to Shades-Soul, HarryPotterFreakie, and Teragirl2013 (Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so glad you like it!) for reviewing. :) And for the faves and follows. Made of awesomeness, you are.**

**This is a special, early update since this story has been up for exactly one month today... it's kinda like a Happy birthday! chapter... yes, it's weird; no, I don't care. And, since this is up early, I'm going to post another little "sneak-peak" of what's coming up in the next chapter on my profile... even though I have no idea whether that gets looked at. Oh well. It'll be there if you do.**

**I'd also like to throw out there that I'm 35 pages and 5 & 1/2 chapters into the Games so Finals and stuff shouldn't effect my updating. Yay, busy me!**

**Enough of my blabbing. Here's the happy birthday update. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Nic, let me in!"

I slide down the door as my body starts to wrack with sobs.

"I didn't mean it. Please let me in."

I can't move. I'm numb. I want my mother, my father, my older sister, the twins, and little Keenan. I want to go home. I want out of here.

There's a rattling then the door begins to open. Finnick picked the lock. Of course.

My heels dig into the ground, but it's no use. He's too strong and I feel too broken to really fight so my body just slides across the carpeted floor.

He kneels in front of me and wipes the tears away. "I didn't mean it. I know you want to go home more than anything. Nicci, please stop crying. I know this has been hard for you and what I said was completely uncalled for."

Like the day before, he holds me while I cry and I let him. After a while I look up at him. He looks genuinely sorry. He really didn't mean it and, while it hurt for him to say that, I'm ok now. I remember that shower on the train, I'm not carrying my troubles around. This isn't going to keep me down.

A small grin jerks the left side of my mouth up as a vision of my brother throwing a fit like this comes to mind. "Keenan would call you a seagull brain right now."

He laughs and I smile. "I have no idea what that means, but I doubt it's good."

I shake my head. "Not one little bit."

He kisses my forehead and looks me in the eyes. "I am sorry."

"I know. You were just angry. We both were."

"Are we friends again?"

This thought had never occurred to me. Finnick's my mentor, yes, but did that qualify him as my friend too? My mind goes back over the last few days. Finnick joking around with me, helping me, holding me when I cried, protecting me, and listening to me rant all while taking any abuse I threw his way. Not once did he complain or back down. Finnick isn't my friend, I decide, he's more like the older brother I never had.

"I think siblings might be a better description," I say with a small laugh.

He nods. "You are a lot like an annoying little sister."

I glower at him.

"You are."

"And you're a meddlesome older brother."

"I shall bear the title with utmost honor." He sends his signature smile my way and I giggle. "Go get your suit on. I think we all could use a swim after today."

This time I don't hesitate or argue. I need some cheap therapy and I can hear the water calling my name.

When I walk out to the living room Finnick and Zayn grimace while Galatea and Helena look nauseated.

"Thanks for the confidence boost," I growl, stalking past them towards the elevator.

"Honey, you're covered in bruises," Galatea whispers.

I look down and realize she's right. Besides the forgotten bruises on my right arm, there are a few blue and green ones showing up on my stomach and legs now. "Oops," I mumble.

Finnick sighs. "Galatea, can you get us some cream for those? We'll doctor her up when we get back."

My stylist nods and goes off to look for an Avox to locate the desired medicine.

We get in the elevator and I grin at my comrades from District 4. Finnick's wearing the same suit as the first time we came up here, the one that would make any Capitol girl swoon. Zayn's is similar- green and just slightly longer and baggier. He could just as easily make Capitol girls go into a frenzy, but I'm not too impressed with either of them. You get a lot of exposure to half-naked bodies in 4. In the summer, when it's really hot, most people wander around in attire similar to ours right now. And as a swimming instructor, I've seen a lot more than that, especially during diving lessons.

The doors open with a ding and we pile out, laughing as Finnick imitates falling like Haymitch Abernathy, the mentor from 12, did on Reaping Day.

"Hey, Zayn, come to train some more?" a voice calls.

I look up to see Marvel waving him over. The other Careers are watching him, waiting for him to join them, all of them except Cato. His eyes are locked on me and he's frowning.

What have I done to make him mad now? I ate the stupid pasta earlier.

"Not right now," Zayn calls. "Finnick thinks he's a better swimmer than me. We're going to race." He lets out a snort and rolls his eyes. What a cocky, little Career he's become I realize with a bit of shock. The kind boy from back home has been completely erased and replaced with a future killing machine. What happened to the boy fretting over me earlier?

They seem to approve of this change though and come jogging over so they can watch.

I fall behind as we make our way to the pool. I'm not part of their group and I won't pretend to be, even after Training is done and over with and I can let the charade slide a bit. I'm the new Johanna. I don't need them.

"Anyone else want to compete with the two greatest swimmers in District 4?" Zayn asks. He's so full of himself right now, just like the others. No one replies so he dives in and swims over to the opposite end. "Not even you, little mermaid?"

I snort and plop down on one of the lounging chairs nearby. "Not in a million years. I might drown in the testosterone."

Zayn rolls his eyes and swims another lap. The others cheer him on. "Ready to lose, old man?"

Finnick laughs. "You're the one who's going to lose, pup." He turns to me. "A kiss for the winner, love?"

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Maybe if you drown."

"The kiss of life," he crows, placing a hand over his heart, "how romantic!"

He dives in and swims around for a minute, much to Glimmer's delight, before emerging next to Zayn.

"Count us down, Nic," Zayn says, leaning forward in the water so he can kick off as soon as I'm done counting.

"Shouldn't you dive in? Or, I don't know, set up some rules first?"

This puzzles him for a minute. "Like what?"

I roll my eyes again. Too much time around the Careers has begun to rot his brain. He can't even remember basic rules from home. "Standard swimming competition rules. Like you dive in on the count of three then swim five laps. The first one back wins."

Zayn and Finnick lock eyes and nod. Agreement met.

They hop out and kneel at the ready.

Marvel, Cato, and Clove are watching intensely, probably hoping to pick up on the technique, while Glimmer stares dreamily at Finnick. I can't help a small smile, I knew exactly what that swimming suit was capable of.

"Three."

Their legs tense up.

"Two."

They lean forward even more.

"One."

The word barely passes my lips before they've both dove into the water.

The poor Careers are beside themselves with excitement as they watch. Everyone but Glimmer is chanting Zayn's name as he and Finnick swim neck and neck. Zayn pulls ahead then Finnick takes the lead as they come back on the final lap. Suddenly Finnick slows down; Zayn catches up and, at the last moment, passes him.

The crowd goes wild.

I know better though. I walk over to the pool with a towel for him. When Finnick's red hair emerges from the water, I quirk an eyebrow at him and he winks at me. Apparently throwing the match will remain our little secret.

He grabs the towel, dries his face, and smiles up at me. "A kiss for trying?" he asks.

I laugh and shake my head. "I'm not a fan of incest."

Finnick holds the towel up for me to take and I foolishly reach down for it. He grabs my wrist and pulls me down into the water. I barely have time to take a breath before the cool water cocoons me.

I come up spluttering and glaring at Finnick.

He smiles cheerily at me. "So glad you decided to join me, Nicci. It's a wonderful day for a swim."

The smile fades quickly when I splash him.

"You shouldn't have done that," he says in a playful tone. "I am the master of water fights!"

"I have three sisters," I say with the same tone. "So bring it, pretty boy."

A wave of water hits me and I shriek happily before returning it. We exchange watery warfare for a few minutes before Zayn joins in and tackles me, effectively ending it all.

We emerge laughing and exchanging a few, minor splashes.

Who knew we'd have such a peaceful, normal moment days before the Games start? Especially after my earlier outburst. It's so nice.

"Come on, Zayn. We're going to train," Clove says.

I momentarily freeze, having forgotten all about them. I glance over my shoulder and see them standing a few feet away on the concrete. They're intimidating to look at. Clove and Glimmer are glaring at me, Glimmer with her hands on her hips and a frown marring her pretty features. Marvel looks around, seeming bored with it all, and Cato, huge hulking Cato, looks absolutely furious with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes zeroed in on me.

I cower in the water behind Finnick. An angry Cato is not a good one.

Zayn chuckles and ambles out of the water. "Let me dry off and get some clean clothes. I'll be back in a few."

He leaves and the others follow him, leaving Finnick and I alone again.

"Lover boy just can't keep his eyes off of you," Finnick says, floating on his back now. "Not that he could be blamed. You are wearing next to nothing, most boys would ogle you."

"He looked mad," I whisper. My eyes still haven't moved from the copse of trees that they disappeared behind. I'm more than a little worried that they'll come back and I'll be found out as a fake.

"Cupcake," Finnick says, "you were playing in water half-naked with two of the most gorgeous men in the Capitol. Of course he looked mad. He was jealous."

I shake my head. Cato doesn't like me in that way. He likes the idea of killing me.

"Deny it all you want, but that's what's happening."

I swim a couple laps then allow myself to sink down to the bottom of the pool. I close my eyes and hold my breath, enjoying the complete silence that surrounds me. Before the burning in my lungs gets too bad, I hear faint yelling overhead and look up to see someone by the edge of the pool waving their arms and speaking emphatically.

Trouble just seems to keep finding me.

The breeze feels icy against my skin despite the warm temperature and I smile up at the terrified face of Ophelia. She's probably worried about Cato seeing her in her less-than-best.

"Oh, Nicci," she says, her eyes watery. "I'm so sorry."

She runs off, her green curls bouncing behind her, and the sounds of her sobs echoing back to us.

I look at Finnick questioningly. "What on earth has her so upset?"

He bites his lip and gestures for us to get out of the pool. We slowly and silently dry off. Finnick refuses to look at me. My mind is whirring. What could have happened? Am I in some sort of trouble? I don't remember doing anything wrong or illegal, but that doesn't mean I didn't do something accidentally.

Finally, Finnick has me sit down in the chair I was in earlier.

He runs his hands through his hair, messing it up even further, as he paces back and forth in front of me. Something has gone terribly wrong. The Gamemakers must know what I did with my scoring and want me to come back and try again. All our work has been for nothing.

After what feels like an eternity, he kneels in front of me and takes my hands in his. His eyes are troubled and for a moment he still struggles to find the right words. "Nic…" His head ducks down and he curses under his breath. "Nic, someone from 4 just called. Your mom died about an hour ago."

My heart skips a beat as the words hit me. "No. You're joking. This isn't funny Finnick!"

"Love, I wouldn't kid about this. No one would."

The look in his eyes, Ophelia running away, his pacing and overall twitchiness, it all leads to the conclusion that he's telling the truth, but my mind refuses to accept it. She said she'd wait for me. My mother never breaks her promises. Ever.

I know better though. The minutes tick by and I search Finnick's face in the hopes of detecting a lie. It isn't happening though. He isn't lying. My mother is dead.

"No!" I scream, choking as my throat tightens and my heart breaks. I curl in on myself, hiding my face as the tears roll down my cheeks and sobs wrack my body. It can't be true. I sit up to look at Finnick, hoping to see him grinning wickedly at me, but it's only sadness that meets my watery gaze. My fists flail out, hitting his chest as I continue screaming. "No! I was going to come back! I was coming back!"

"Come on, let's get you out of here," he says, trying to get me to stand up, but I refuse, kicking and screaming until he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. "It's going to be ok, Nicaea. I promise."

More sobs shake my body and I bury my face in his back as he walks. It's never going to be ok. "I was going to come back!" I wail, my fists beating at him again.

Just as the elevator doors open, I hear a voice say, "Looks like we have another mad girl from District 4."

* * *

Everyone sits in the living room with me. The Stylists, the Prep Team, Finnick, Mags, Ophelia, even Zayn came down a few minutes after Finnick and I crashed into the apartment. No one says anything, they just silently lend me support as I begin coping and accepting my mother's passing.

Mags has been humming an old song from our district, a song about death and the waves of the ocean. It's sad, but it's a small comfort. Even though I'm thousands of miles away from home, an old sea shanty has still managed to come and remind me of happier days when I was younger.

Finnick has refused to leave my side. He holds me when I cry and rubs my back when I lie down and stare emptily out the window with my conch shell pressed firmly to my ear. He probably does this all the time with Annie. She's at least twice as broken as I am and she'll never be repaired.

After an hour or so of this, Finnick turns to Zayn. "You should probably go back up to the roof. I assume they're waiting on you." Zayn nods and goes to leave. As he's climbing in the elevator, Finnick calls out to him. "Don't tell them what happened. If they ask, just say we got bad news from back home."

He's gone until it's time for our scores to be displayed.

I sit up and my head rests on Finnick's shoulder as Claudius and Caesar's faces appear on the television screen. They seem just as happy as usual and I bitterly hope something goes wrong so that their fake cheeriness will be knocked down a few notches.

Faces begin to pop up as Claudius reads their scores.

Marvel and Glimmer get 9s. Cato and Clove get 10s. Any fears the other tributes had about them has now been confirmed and multiplied.

Zayn gets a 9 as well and smiles happily while everyone calls out their congratulations.

I receive a 5, the same as Finch. I feel a little happiness at this. Maybe we'll be able to make it. People with 5s still manage to get Sponsors and approval from the Gamemakers.

A few other scores stand out: the girl from 7 getting an 8, the boy from 11 with a 10, the little girl from that same District getting a 7, Peeta from District 12 receiving an 8. The one to steal the show though is Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire. She receives an 11.

Gasps go up around the room and Galatea whispers a soft "impossible". But it is, as Caesar reminds us with a grin.

"These Games are going to be so exciting," he says.

The screen goes black.

"Good job, kids," Finnick says. "Let's eat."

He kisses the top of my head and tries to lead me into the dining room, but I shake my head. I won't be able to keep food down right now. "I'm going to go to bed." My voice is hoarse from the crying and disuse.

He looks conflicted, but nods. "I'll check on you as soon as I'm done eating." He gets a few steps away before he turns back to me. "Don't do anything stupid, Nic. Your mom wouldn't want that."

I nod and shuffle off to my room.

It's too big in there and too cold, so I crawl in the shower. The warm water caresses me and washes away some of the immediate pain. In a stiff sort of way, I clean myself and then just sit there sobbing under the water.

That's how Finnick finds me, naked and broken on the floor of the shower.

He shuts the water off and wraps me up in a towel before placing me under a dryer that gets rid of any water on my body or in my hair in a matter of seconds. I'm then pushed till I sit on my bed before he quickly helps me pull a nightgown over my head.

He hands me underwear. "You're on your own there."

I pull them on before collapsing on my bed, completely exhausted from this long day. Finnick curls up behind me and pulls the blankets over us.

He doesn't complain once whenever I wake him up in the night with my sobbing and he never lets me go. The safety and comfort he gives are beyond description and I find myself thanking anything and everything that I have him as a mentor and friend.

He's exactly what I needed.


	8. Mermaid Persona

**AAAAAH! You. Guys. Are. Spoiling. Me! And that's totally ok. :) Thank you so much to Shades-Soul, hungergameschica (Thank you. Nicci's kinda my baby so it's nice to hear that she could function in normal society. Thank you for that too, it was a tough choice with her mom, but you're supposed to put your characters through hell... so yeah.), TheMaximumExperience, and Mekarle803 (Thank you! I try really hard to write well. I may try writing something else in the future, but for now Cato and Nicaea are all I need. :) ) for reviewing and to all the people who favorited and followed or just read this. It makes my day when I see those things.**

**This is a looooong chapter, but I couldn't think of any decent way to split it into two parts so here it is in all it's glory. :)**

* * *

A day later, I take another shower. As I did on the train, I promise to let my troubles go down the drain with the soap bubbles. I know I'm lying to myself, that this pain isn't going to go away, but I need to move past it for now. Tonight the Interviews with Caesar Flickerman will take place and I can't afford to fall apart on national television like I did yesterday when Finnick and Ophelia practiced mock interviews with me.

For the most part, I did well. I was able to be the fun mermaid Finnick wanted me to be until my mother's death was brought up. Every time it was, I would start sobbing. Just thinking about her would open the wounds and the floodgates would follow suit. It was frustrating to think about. I'd come so far and done so much acting, but I couldn't seem to cover this up.

I'm convinced it's going to come up though. How could it not? There's supposed to be no contact between the tributes and their home districts. Besides, why would they have me practice this if it wasn't certain to come up?

My mind goes numb for the rest of the day as my Prep Team scuttles around me. They pluck and shave and do my hair, make-up, and nails, but I don't pay much attention to them until Galatea enters and they hurry out.

"Originally," she says, "we were going to put you in this." She holds up a beautiful, little sea-green dress made of soft, flowy fabric. "Due to recent events though," her eyes meet mine, "we thought this might be better. Eyes closed now. It's a surprise."

I close my eyes hesitantly and I raise my hands above my head.

Soft fabric flows down my body. Galatea pulls a zipper along my side and does some general adjusting. Then she helps me into a pair of flat shoes that she buckles around my ankles. So much for the heels I practiced walking in yesterday.

I'm gently guided over to where I assume the mirror is and am told to open my eyes.

Like the last time Galatea played dress-up with me, I'm blown away.

The dress I'm in today is even more fantastic than my mermaid costume at the Parade. It hugs my breasts in black, beaded crystal that catches the light and reflects little rainbows on my face. Below that it flows out pleasantly, starting out black and morphing slowly into blue at the bottom. The symbolism behind it is fantastic too- the black crystal signifies my mourning at the loss of my mother; the morphing skirt the transition I will have to make in the Arena from the playful river into a dark and foreboding tempest.

I find myself smiling and fighting back tears. It's subtle, but perfect.

"I'm so sorry for everything, Nicaea. This was the best I could do," she says and there's genuine sorrow in her voice.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Galatea." My voice is shaky as my throat clenches.

We envelop each other in a hug. She smells like mint and I squeeze a little tighter, taking her in for what could be the last time.

"It gets easier. I promise you it does."

I nod. It will, in time.

She kisses my cheek and walks out. "Finnick will be in momentarily."

My eyes wander back to my reflection in the mirror. My Prep Team and Stylist have done such an amazing job. They've pinned my hair up with black crystal dabbled throughout and a few curls falling down over my shoulder. Around my neck are a few strands of the same stones, my ears hold matching rings. The make-up around my eyes is dark and makes them look bigger. If I tear up, the audience will know immediately. They don't look red and baggy like they did this morning either. The Team has worked a miracle with me.

Finnick walks in and wraps an arm around me. I watch as he leans in close to my shoulder and scratches at something. Oddly enough, I don't feel it. When I look down, I see crystal embedded in my skin. Finnick smiles. "You look fantastic, Nic."

We share a small smile before he leads me out into the living room where everyone else is waiting. I get soft "oh"s and "ah"s when I walk in and Galatea beams. Another one of her dresses will be a smash with the Capitol.

Finnick spins me around and I giggle, grinning around at my surrogate family. I note that Zayn is in a white suit with a tie matching my dress and little black crystal as his cufflinks and that Mags has been put in a beautiful and elegant blue dress and jacket.

"Let's go, kiddos!" Finnick says, ushering us all into the elevator.

We're like sardines in a can in that little elevator and I can't help but feel a little claustrophobic. Apparently I'm not the only one because the Prep Teams start fidgeting and we all end up receiving a few elbows to various parts of our bodies as they try to gain more room in the elevator.

"Ah! You're standing on my foot!" someone screeches as the doors open and I, the closest to the doors, am shoved out into the hallway and right into what feels like a wall.

"Oww," I mumble, leaning away from it and rubbing my forehead.

"I guess we'll catch the next elevator," it says and I look up to see Cato smirking down at me.

We must be on the District 2 floor. They really should set up more elevators in this building. One elevator for 24 enemies and their mentors just doesn't cut it.

Despite this revelation, I can't manage to look or move away from Cato and, when I feel his arm wrap lightly around my waist to steady my now wobbly legs, I find that I don't really want to.

Hera lets out a slight squeal of delight and I know she's both ogling him and creating an imaginary romance between us. I'll be questioned by her the first chance she gets.

A shuffling of feet and Finnick rams into my back, hitting my not yet healed bruise, and causing me to hiss in pain. My body is pressed more firmly against Cato's and I can't help but notice how firm his is. The years of training for the Games have done him many favors.

"I'll catch that one too," he says, his voice taking on a charming tone as he not-so-subtly pulls me away from Cato. When my gaze falls on the elevator I see Galatea frowning. Apparently my appearance has been marred in some way.

The doors close and Finnick and I are left alone with District 2. Finnick turns and beams at someone behind us. "Hello, Brutus. How are you doing? Your tributes look as menacing as usual."

His attempt at cheery flattery goes over about as well as would be expected. "What are you playing at, Odair?" the brutish Mentor from 2 rumbles.

I look over at him and he's just as large and hulking as before and even more intimidating now that he's only a few feet away. So is the woman next to him. She grins at me, showing sharp golden teeth. This is Enobaria, the woman who ripped out someone's throat with her teeth the year she won. No wonder the people from 2 are so uptight. I'd be on edge too if I had to spend all my time with these two.

I can hear the smile in Finnick's voice as he replies. "I'm not playing at anything." It takes everything in me to not raise an eyebrow and stare at him. Finnick is always up to something. "Shorty, you should get matching teeth with Enobaria."

My eyes wander over to Clove whose steely gaze and wicked smile make my blood run even colder. I can't help but imagine she's deciding how she would kill me right here and now if she could. I turn away and watch as the needle above the elevator begins rising.

The doors ding open and I eagerly step inside, ready to be away from these people. I move to the back, careful of my dress. I really don't want to upset Galatea any more, she's been so great. The rest of the group piles in and, as fate would have it, I'm stuck in the corner with Cato. I glower at Finnick as he rambles on with Enobaria about her teeth and whether or not they get rusty. He's completely oblivious or at least pretending to be.

I'm more than a little aware when Cato's arm sneaks behind me and rests along the wall, only an inch or so away. I can't help fidgeting, hugging myself close as goosebumps pop up along my arms. I refuse to admit that he's the cause of them. I'm merely cold.

As soon as the elevator doors open, I rush out and hurry over to Galatea who begins tweaking with my hair and dress. She leans in close and whispers, "Are you alright?" Her eyebrows are knitted together and I know she's concerned about something. "I saw him touch you." She growls. "And Finnick made you stay instead of getting you back in the elevator. We will be sharing words later. He knows you don't want to play that way but he keeps forcing it on you."

Her brown eyes meet mine and she sighs angrily.

"I'm alright, Tea. Really."

She hesitates for a moment then ushers me away to where all the other Tributes have begun to congregate. Even here the Careers have managed to migrate towards each other. They stand in the corner, observing everyone else.

Some people look like they might throw up. Mostly the younger kids, but a few closer to my age do as well. Part of me worries that I look the same way, but I push it aside. Everything will work out in the end.

When Finch and I lock eyes I can't help but smile. Her dress is a shade or two darker than the one I was originally meant to wear. It's even the same length and general style. Galatea would not be pleased if that had happened.

"Remember, cupcake. Flirty mermaid," Finnick says, appearing from nowhere at my elbow. "Now come on, got to get you in line."

Once again, I'm ushered off to another place. I'm in front of Zayn in the line. He smiles down at me and rubs my shoulders whenever the other Careers aren't looking. It's his silent way of supporting me. He knows this could be very difficult for me. He watched me struggle through yesterday.

Music begins playing and, as it swells to a crescendo, we begin to walk out onto the stage. Our seats form a half circle around two others and we silently take our places as the people of the Capitol and Caesar Flickerman, in a bright blue wig and suit, clap ecstatically for us. I grin at the audience playfully, my mask fully in place, as I take my seat and adjust my skirts around me.

Caesar calls the other tributes up one by one and they spend their three minutes with him. Glimmer flirts. Marvel is arrogant. Clove is her evil self. Cato is confident. The girl from 3 is so nervous she's shaking, but she manages to rattle off some stuff about electronics.

My nerves cause my stomach to clench uncomfortably as the interview with the boy from 3 comes nearer and nearer to its end. I know I can do well at this. I spent enough time practicing yesterday with Finnick and Ophelia to get through this with my eyes closed. That is if they don't mention my mother. I don't want to talk about her. Or the Games. Or the other tributes.

Especially not the other tributes.

Particularly the huge blonde male a few seats to my right. As the evening's gone on my eyes have wandered to him multiple times and I hate to admit it, but he looks good in his black suit. His stylist clearly knew what she was doing.

The buzzer goes off and the poor District 3 boy wanders back to his seat, letting out a huge sigh as he settles in. He looks worn out. There isn't time to send him a sympathetic look though because Caesar has turned to smile back at me, his white teeth flashing as he calls for me.

"Let's see if she's as playful as the mermaid she portrayed at the Parade. Can we get a round of applause for Miss Nicaea Cosgrove?" he calls, his voice happy and light.

A smile lights up my face as I tug on my aforementioned mermaid persona. I walk over to Caesar, a slight jump in my step. I have to be happy. I have to be playful.

He takes one of my hands and twirls me around before kissing the back of it. I giggle, covering my mouth with my free hand.

"Hello, Caesar," I say cheerily.

"Hello, Nicaea," he says as we take our seats. "You look absolutely radiant tonight. Your stylist has done a fabulous job."

The Capitol citizens scream their approval and I catch sight of a screen out of the corner of my eye. I do look radiant. My smile widens on the screen as I catch Galatea beaming as well.

"Thank you," I say, flashing my smile at everyone around. "My stylist is amazing, Caesar. I don't know where I'd be without Galatea and my Prep Team."

A squeal goes up in the crowd and I know it's from either Hera or Leto. They're absolutely delighted to be mentioned on national television, even if it isn't by name.

Caesar laughs. "It sounds like someone agrees with you. Now tell me," he says, leaning closer to me, "how has your stay in the Capitol been?"

There it is. He's digging around for me to admit about my mother. "Well, Caesar," I say slowly. I can't be too careful with my next words; they might let me dodge away from things I don't wish to discuss. "It's had its ups and downs."

He nods knowingly. "What's the best part about being in the Capitol?"

I grin, happy that he's decided to take the positive route, and say, "Ice cream, Caesar." The crowd begins laughing when I let out a moan. "I'd never had it before and I absolutely love it. Between Finnick and I we've probably eaten the whole Capitol dry."

"Another sweet tooth from District 4," Caesar says with a laugh and I begin to relax again. Caesar makes it easy to get comfortable. "Now, tell us about mermaids. I'm afraid we're rather lacking when it comes to District folklore here."

Finnick didn't prepare me for this. Thankfully though Lara, Lilaea, and I all loved mermaid stories when we were little so I'm well acquainted with the mythology. I can't help it as another smile comes across my face as I envision my younger siblings, they're a source of strength even though they're a world away.

"Mermaids are a huge part of District 4's culture," I begin. "They have a woman's upper body and the tail of a fish. They swim in the oceans, but, when they wish, they can grow legs and walk on land. They've been known to sing to sailors so that they can lure them into the ocean and drown them." I pause as all eyes are riveted on me. Not a sound echoes throughout the crowd. They're completely enraptured, just like small children. "Many men run the risk though and jump into the ocean after them because some say that a mermaid's kiss contains healing properties… that it's the most amazing feeling in the world." I laugh and heads tilt to one side, completely confused by my sudden mirth. "No one's ever lived to tell the tale though."

Caesar laughs too. "Has anyone tried to tame this little mermaid? Anyone tried to steal a kiss?" He winks at me.

I feel a blush rise in my cheeks. "No," I say softly as I look up at Caesar through my lashes.

"I don't believe it for a minute!" he yells and male voices shout up their agreeance. "Is there anyone who could steal one?"

The heat in my cheeks is unbearable and only gets worse when an image of Cato pops up in my head. I look away from Caesar and down at my hands, trying to hide some of the redness in my cheeks.

"I'll take that as a yes, ladies and gentlemen!" He's crowing in delight. "What's the lucky guy's name?" He leans forward again now, attempting to give off the illusion of confidentiality, as though we're alone. It doesn't work. I'm perfectly aware of the crowd craning forward in anticipation.

I may as well use this to my advantage though, I realize. There's no point in me being senselessly embarrassed on national television for no reason. I may as well let this work for me. Sponsors love sappiness and romance as well as the bloodshed. If I can sell this, I may win some help when I'm in the Arena.

So I lean in close to Caesar and slowly bat my lashes at him. My mermaid persona is back in control of this interview. "Can you keep a secret, Caesar?"

"We most certainly can!" He nods eagerly and leans even closer. Our faces are inches apart now.

"Promise not to tell?" I say. He nods. "Not until I'm in the Arena?" Another frantic nod. He must be aware that our time is almost up by now and really wants to know the name of my imaginary lover.

I lean in closer so my mouth is only centimeters away from his ear. I cup my hand so that the camera can't catch the name. Promises of secrecy won't matter if the citizens can read my lips.

"Cato," I breathe so softly that he can barely hear it, but I know he does.

His face moves away from mine, his eyes wide and an even wider grin splitting his face. As the citizens take in his face, they begin howling and yelling. They want to know the name of my lover. They want to know who's caught my eye. They'll just have to wait though.

The buzzer goes off.

Caesar kisses my hand and wishes me luck.

I smile as I take my seat, winking at Zayn who's shaking his head and laughing. He knows exactly whose name I said and precisely the angle I'm working. After all, it was Finnick's original plan to do this.

* * *

I collapse on the couch with a sigh. The squashy pillows easily give way beneath my body, cushioning it and helping me to relax a bit. My part of the interview had been a hit. Citizens everywhere would be talking about it… when the reruns ran or when I ran into Cato in the Arena and Caesar blabbed.

"I can't believe that happened," Finnick says, flopping down on the floor beside me. "You both were phenomenal and then-" He makes a farting noise with his mouth. "All down the drain with that little love confession from 12." He makes a gagging noise. He's clearly not pleased with the evening. "Who knew Haymitch had it in him?

"We'll be alright," Zayn says, sitting on the other couch. "Bitch on Fire looked pissed after the Interviews. Lover boy's probably in major trouble now."

"We're doomed!" Finnick moans.

I turn to glare at him just in time to see Galatea swiftly kick him with her pointy heels. "Stop that right now, Finnickin. We have nothing to complain about. Nicaea was wonderful. She gave the Capitol something to look for. They'll be watching her as closely as the 12 tributes."

Helena then steps forward, she looks just as irritated as Galatea, but she doesn't kick him. "Zayn was wonderful as well. He was intimidating but articulate. You will have no trouble getting either of them Sponsors, so stop your moping, child."

The two of them shoot my redheaded mentor an icy glare before hurrying off to their rooms. They're probably conspiring how to slaughter him later. Not that I blame them. I wouldn't mind sending a kick at Finnick and his moping.

I stand up and begin walking towards the elevator. I want away from this. I want silence and the feel of the wind on my skin, maybe even the water, and the only place I can get that is on the roof.

"Cupcake!" Finnick calls. "Where are you going, love?"

I kick my shoes angrily at his head. He shields his body just in time with his arms and rolls on his side. "Away from you and your complaining."

The elevator doors ding open and I'm inside and heading towards the roof before they can stop me. My body leans back against the cool metal and my eyes drift closed. The silence in this little box is nice.

The doors open and I walk off onto the roof. Unlike my previous trips up here, it's empty. No Careers to glare at me. No Finnick to shove me away. No Cato to confuse or threaten me.

I make my way to a different part of the rooftop, an area I'd not yet explored. My feet lead me to a small garden. There are roses and daffodils, tiger lilies and fox glove, and so many more that I can't identify. I let the sweet smell of the flowers overcome my senses as I walk towards the edge of the garden where there's a railing. Beyond it I can see the Capitol. The bright lights are blinding and people are bustling about below. If I didn't know any better, it'd be easy to think it was daytime.

Day. It's highly plausible that my next day on this earth will bring about my death, a slow, bloody, painful, well-broadcast death. My hands grip the railing tightly as I think of my family having to watch that.

Two deaths in less than a week, how tragic and painful would that be to deal with?

A few tears slip from my eyes and roll slowly down my cheeks. I have to get home to them. I can't put them through that kind of torture. I need to see them all again. I need to talk with Castalia, to swim in the ocean with the twins, read bedtime stories to Keenan, and hug my father. I miss them so much.

A sob wracks my body. This is the last time I can allow myself to break down and pity my lot in all this. In the Arena, a moment like this could get me a knife in the back or my throat slit. I can't think about how I'll never see my mother again or possibly the rest of my family, of how I won't get to see Castalia get married or help the twins with their homework. I won't be able to think about not seeing the kind of man Keenan will grow up to be or watching my father's hair turn gray with age.

And it kills me.

A loud noise tears me away from my momentary depression and I follow the sound. I should know better. I really should. But I can't help myself. The sounds of destruction draw me closer.

The sounds are coming from the swimming pool so I assume it's Zayn or Finnick throwing some kind of hissy fit about the interviews. I'm moderately surprised when I find it's neither of them, but rather the bulky tribute from District 2.

He's thrown nearly every piece of pool furniture into the trees or the pool. The suit he was dressed in earlier is drastically disheveled. His breathing is heavy and there's an evil look in his eyes. At this moment, he is the bloodthirsty tribute that will unleash himself on the Arena in a few hours. The one all the Capitol citizens have been fawning over.

I should just turn and run and act like I saw nothing, but I find myself stepping forward, my brows furrowed. "What are you doing?"

He throws me a crazed look. "Go away, Nicaea," his voice is low and deadly.

I reiterate my question, enunciating every word as I bitterly wipe the remaining tears on my cheeks away. "What are you doing?"

His eyes narrow and he stalks closer to me. "Go away, Nicaea."

My eyes narrow and my hands move to my hips. "What are you doing, Cato?"

"Unless you want to get hurt, I suggest you leave now," he growls.

I know he means it. I know he wouldn't think twice about snapping my neck right here and now. "You're going to get hurt if you don't stop."

He rolls his eyes. "How? There aren't any tridents up here and splashing me isn't going to do anything. You can't hurt me." His tone's more menacing than it's ever been and the words cut deep. If we run into each other in the Arena it'll be similar to this. Except he'll have a sword and I'll already be bleeding to death on the ground.

My eyes betray me and well up with more tears. "Just make it quick, 2. Don't torture me. My family doesn't need to cope with that as well."

I turn and walk away, but before I do something flashes in his eyes. Something I can't and don't really want to identify. Something almost like regret.


	9. Welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games!

**It has been one heck of a week. Birthday, interview, teaching, quizzes, tests, and doctor visits. Praise be for the weekend!**

**Thank you for the faves and follows and for reading. And thank you to Shades-Soul, Midnight'sRevenge, Frostivy, Lil miss nobody (Thanks. No worries. I won't leave you hanging- I've got over half of this written and summer is around the corner!), and zaferia267 (Thank you. I'm so glad you like it.) for reviewing.**

**Got questions? Feel free to leave a review or PM me, I'd love to clear up anything missing from the text or talk about potential things to happen in the story.**

**Here we go, folks, Games day. :)**

* * *

I wake up early and shower quickly. In a matter of hours I will be in the Arena, staring death in the eyes and hoping with everything in me that I can get away before someone kills me. The odds are not in my favor. I know this with shocking clarity and part of me accepts it. My mind knows that, even with Finch as an ally, Zayn and Cato as protectors, and Finnick as a mentor, I will probably die in that forsaken arena miles from my home and family.

I refuse to let myself cry anymore though.

After my shower, I meander into the living room with the book from a few days ago that I never finished. As I read, the sun comes up and illuminates the sleeping Capitol. For once there aren't hundreds of cars and people buzzing by on the roads below. It's almost like home.

Finnick comes in as I finish my book. He quirks an eyebrow as I stare at him. "That was the worst ending ever. You could have told me they both died."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, cupcake," he mumbles as he fixes himself some breakfast.

"They both die. He poisons himself and she stabs herself with a knife. For love. That's not the last thing I wanted to read before I die!"

He rolls his eyes and plops down beside me and looks out the window. "You aren't going to die, Nicaea. I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that." He shoves a bit of pancake at my face. "Now go eat."

I do, savoring the sweet syrup on the pancakes and tart taste of the berries I piled around them. Finnick puts some meat on my plate saying it'll last longer in the Arena and I eat it slowly. The odds of me getting protein in the Arena are slim to none, unless I manage to catch some fish, so I savor them as much as the sweet pancakes.

Mags and Zayn stumble in after we're done and silently eat their food. Not too long after, Ophelia comes in, crying her eyes out as she proclaims us the best tributes ever and says she hopes more than anything that we make it out of the Arena. We have her support; she'll be rooting for us the whole time.

Soon Zayn and I are led up to the roof by Finnick and Mags. They smile and give us hugs. Mags whispers that my mother would be proud of me and Finnick gives me a quick twirl before kissing my forehead.

"I'll be waiting for you on the other side. Come back to me, cupcake."

I blink back tears and nod. "I'll try."

The large aircraft that we're led into has most of the Tributes in it already. Just like last night, many of them look like they'll be sick. My eyes wander to Cato. He looks calm and composed, nothing like the animal he was last night. Not yet anyway. I'm certain that as soon as the gong sounds, that version of him will be back with a vengeance.

I take a seat between Zayn and Finch and smile at her. She looks green so I give her hand a quick squeeze before one of the attendants comes up with a syringe.

"What is that?" I ask, my eyes glued on the huge needle she's about to shove into me.

"Tracker," she mumbles impatiently, not even bothering to look at my face as she jabs it into my arm.

I cry out in shock and blush furiously when I realize it didn't hurt and hasn't even left a mark on my skin. Zayn chuckles as I hide my face from anyone looking my way. There goes any fear I'd managed to instill over the past couple days.

The aircraft takes off and, within about five minutes, we're landing again. Peacekeepers board the craft and lead us off, one by one, down narrow hallways. It's eerily similar to our first day in the Capitol, except the Peacekeepers are the Prep Teams polar opposites. There is no happiness or hope.

I'm left in a cold, metal room. There's a glass tube in one corner that will lead me up into the Arena, a bed pressed against a wall, and a chair near that. On the bed there's a change of clothes and some boots similar to the ones I'd worn in Training all week. I silently change into them and, just as I finish lacing up my boots, Galatea walks in wearing dark green robes that swish around her dramatically.

She looks awful with her eyes all red and black streams of make-up running down her cheeks. I've never seen her like this before. Galatea has always been so poised and elegant with a flair for the dramatic. She rushes up to me and pulls me in for a tight hug. It's as if she's a parent seeing her child off and I gratefully pull her in closer. This is exactly what I needed, love and understanding.

She smells like mint again and I give her a final squeeze before letting her go.

She hurriedly brushes away her tears and wipes a couple away from my face as well. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come in here like that. I've been in control all morning."

I smile. "It's alright. I prefer this to faking."

Galatea just shakes her head. "Come on, let's get this jacket on you." She pulls it out of her billowing robes and begins putting me in it. It's a dark blue and matches the plain t-shirt I'd put on earlier. She then moves me over to the chair where she begins doing my hair. I watch the reflection in the metal walls. It's another bun, the same as all the other days. "There we go," she says, patting my shoulders.

A voice tells us to prepare for launch and I walk stiffly over to the tube. I face Galatea and she nods at me.

"You can do this, Nicaea. We're all rooting for you." As the glass door closes she motions for me to check my pocket. Inside it is my token, the seashell my mother gave me. I mouth a thank you right before the floor beneath me begins moving skywards, taking me up to my death.

When I emerge from the chute, I'm blinded. There's sunshine everywhere and it takes a few seconds to adjust before I can take in the Arena. It's trees; a forest with a huge lake close-by. There will be plenty of places to hide and the lake bodes well in the sense that I won't have to worry about feeding myself.

The Cornucopia looms in front of me, reminding me that this isn't just a pretty picture. This year it's a silver color and oddly constructed, not the usual curving shape of previous years.

"Welcome," says Claudius Templesmith, his voice echoing down from somewhere above us, "to the Seventy-fourth Annual Hunger Games!"

A clock above the Cornucopia begins ticking down the time. 60 seconds.

My eyes look to my left and right. Cato stands a couple people to my left; he winks as we lock eyes and mouths "_Two_" at me. I nod. Apparently our deal is still in place or that's just what he wants me to believe. I turn to my right. Zayn stands the same distance away. He's focused on the clock like a good, little Career.

45 seconds.

Down a couple from Zayn is Finch. She looks nervous, but determined. She's functioning under the same orders as me, I can feel it. She won't run into the Bloodbath. She'll flee into the safety of the trees and come back later to scrounge what food she can.

30 seconds.

There's a backpack a few feet in front of me. Dare I go for it?

No, I reason. I'll be getting my supplies tonight, when the Careers are out hunting.

20 seconds.

My eyes refuse to leave the clock now as the seconds tick away.

My legs tense up when it reaches 10. I'm ready to run as soon as I can.

5 seconds.

4.

3.

2.

1.

The gong sounds, loud and unnerving, and everyone leaps into action. I whirl around and make a mad dash for the safety of the trees and the forest. To my left, I can see Finch doing the same. I don't dare go nearer to her though for fear of what others might interpret it as.

Before I get to the forest, I can hear the sounds of carnage behind me. There are loud screams as children are mercilessly slaughtered and the clanging of metal hitting metal rings in my ears. My feet pick up pace.

I run into the forest at full speed. Any time I hear what sounds like another tribute, I make a sharp turn. I don't want to run into anyone who might kill or even potentially harm me. How sad would it be if I didn't even make it to the second day?

No matter how badly I want to, I don't stop running until I find a thick patch of bushes to hide under. I'm probably only a mile or two from the Cornucopia, which most sponsors won't like, but I don't care. Although it's smart to get away from the Careers and the carnage they're leaving behind, it's just as unwise to exhaust yourself and get lost ten minutes in.

My eyes scan the area around me. I haven't actually seen a tribute since I hit the tree line and it worries me more than I'm willing to admit. Surely I should have run into someone else by now. I swallow my nerves and crawl under the bushes.

My heart pounds in my chest so loudly that I can't hear anything else. I close my eyes and will it to slow down. Eventually it does and I lay there in the dirt, listening and watching for my competition.

After a while the cannon begins to sound. The Bloodbath has finished and it's time to announce the number that fell. I count them out. 10. Almost half of us are gone within the first hour. The Gamemakers better hope that things slow down otherwise the populous will be upset.

As I lay there, looking up at the blue sky through the leaves, I begin wondering about my District Partner. Is Zayn ok? Did he survive? Are he and the others off hunting already? These thoughts plague me. I need to shut my mind down though so I can nap a little before the Careers go out to hunt. Finnick and I determined that raiding their camp would be my best shot at getting food for the first few days while I get my bearings here in the Arena.

Eventually I fall into a doze and wake as the sun is beginning to set. I'm very thirsty and my stomach is grumbling. I need food and water soon. The only place that will quickly alleviate either of these issues is the Career camp.

After lying there for a few minutes, I deduce that no one is near me and crawl out from under my leafy hideaway. I spin around and take closer note of my surroundings. I've only seen pictures of forests like this before. All around me trees stand, tall and imposing. There are a few with branches low enough for me to climb into, but for the most part they remain out of my reach. On the ground there are branches and logs scattered among the grass and bushes. The closest we have to this in 4 are the swamps, not that anyone goes there. It's far too dangerous.

I smile. It's a funny thought, that I was worried about getting lost in a swamp for years, and now I'm stuck in the deadliest forest in existence. Weird how life turns out.

Another quick glance around me and I'm off at a light jog. I need to get to the Cornucopia before it gets dark otherwise I might not find it at all. The Gamemakers sometimes make it pitch black at night so the tributes can't do anything and are forced to fight only in the daylight when lighting is perfect and you can see every blow, watch as every drop of blood hits the ground.

It takes a little while to find my way back to the Cornucopia, maybe a little over an hour. Thankfully I don't run into any other Tributes, they're probably all hiding in preparation for the big hunt later tonight. If I didn't have Zayn and Cato's promise, I'd probably be with them, cowering in a cave somewhere while I wait and hope that the Careers pass me up.

When I find the huge, silver Cornucopia, I crouch down in the bushes. I'm almost directly across from the lake and, after raiding some food, I'll head over there. That will give me a nice exit strategy, access to water and food, as well as being close enough to raid this group whenever I want to.

The Careers are an odd bunch this year. Besides the five picked from the beginning, they've taken in the boy from 3 and Peeta, the boy from 12. I have to wonder what they're up to, what their game plan is. I also have to wonder about where Zayn is. I've seen the others wandering around, 1 and 2 joking and laughing while 3 and 12 stand awkwardly off to the side. I hope he's just sleeping somewhere, but the knot in my stomach says otherwise.

I can delude myself for a couple more hours though. For now he's off hunting or swimming, not on his way back home in a wooden box.

Time passes slowly as I crouch in the shadows watching the Careers. As that time elapses, I find myself questioning everything. Did I make the right decision? Should I have sided with the Careers? Should I have run off with Finch or made an alliance with another tribute? Is sitting here a good idea? Where is Zayn? And, as I watch Glimmer swooning about in Cato's arms, I find myself questioning whether I can even count on that deal I made with him. Will he honor it or is he playing the cameras like I tried to last night?

Either way, it's sickening to watch. Glimmer walks up and strokes his arm and toys with his hair. She twirls her hair around her finger and bats her eyelashes at him. She's constantly giggling and more than once her face is so close to his that I'm certain that they're going to kiss, but at the last second Cato manages to move out of the way. That at least makes me smile. Maybe I can count on him.

"Bit over the top, isn't she?" a voice whispers from behind me.

My body freezes up and I slowly turn to see Finch crouched down beside me, her red hair already falling out of its two buns.

"How did you find me?" I ask, taking care to keep my voice low as I go back to watching the Careers.

"Easy, I saw which way you ran and waited for you." She grins. "I knew you'd come back to check up on things and steal some food."

I smile back at her. "Glad I'm so easy to predict."

She shakes her head. "It's only because I know you."

I cock an eyebrow at her. We've only known each other for a few days and even then we only talked about family and made fun of the other tributes. How on earth can she know me?

"I knew you'd come back… to check on him." She tilts her head in Cato's direction. "There's something going on between you two."

It's not a question, just a statement of fact, but my head shakes left and right anyway. I'll deny it as long as I can. "No."

She shrugs and pops a berry in her mouth as she lets the subject drop. "How long till they go hunting?"

It's nearing dusk, so it can't be too long until they leave. "I dunno. Maybe an hour or so. I can't really hear them."

She nods and settles into the brush beside me.

It's quiet for a long time as we watch the Careers hustling around. They're gathering up weapons now. Marvel has a pack of spears on his back, Glimmer a bow and arrows, Clove is loaded down with knives, and Cato carries a huge broadsword. Cato goes over and talks with 12 and 3. 3 gets a spear and goes to sit down on the far side of the Cornucopia where I can't see. 12 gets a sword as well and joins the main four.

They begin gesturing in different directions. My heart skips a beat when I see Glimmer and Marvel point almost directly at where Finch and I are cowering. She grabs my hand. Both of our palms are sweating now as we hold our breath. It's too late to run, as the sun set, the noises of the forest died down. They'd hear if we took off now.

Cato shakes his head though. He points far off to the right and marches off, decision made. Clove and Peeta immediately follow. After a second, Marvel follows. Glimmer sends our section of the forest one final glare before marching off to join them.

I let out a shaky sigh when they don't return ten minutes later. Finch and I lock eyes in the pale moonlight.

"Give them an hour," she breathes. "Then we'll go." She shakes her head. "They're so predictable."

"Where's the food?"

"On the other side of the Cornucopia. They stacked it all in a pyramid this afternoon. Where were you?"

I grin. "Taking a nap. I knew we wouldn't be sleeping much tonight."

She rolls her eyes. "Lucky. I watched your boyfriend all day."

"I preferred it when you called him Compensation," I mutter bitterly, my attention once again on the Cornucopia.

It's quiet for a while as we listen to the forest and keep an eye out for any movement. When the hour's nearing its end I finally break the silence. "Is there anything we need to worry about?"

Finch shakes her head, eyes riveted on the Cornucopia. "No. They don't have anything set up yet, but I think that's why they've kept 3 around. They're going to booby trap it somehow."

I nod.

"It's just a pyramid of food right now. I do think they're gone too. It's the first night. They won't lurk and wait."

I give her another nod. "I'll distract him while you get food. I'll meet you back here after."

She nods. "I'll grab some water too. There were a few small canteens that they won't notice missing if we take them right now.

"Any knives we could take?"

She shakes her head. "No. Clove's kept a close eye on those. You know how she is with knives."

A shiver runs up my spine as I think back to her in Training. Yes, I know how Clove is with knives. "I guess we'll go without."

"Have to."

We nod and divide up. She goes left and I go right, her to safety and I right into the den of our enemies. I watch the forest parallel to me, waiting for a glimpse of Finch's red hair to let me know that she's made it. Eventually, I catch sight of her.

She nods and I crash through the undergrowth, drawing the attention of every animal and tribute nearby. My feet loudly crush dead leaves, snap branches, and kick around rocks as I make my way through thr woods. I run out into the meadow. The boy from 3 never lifts his head or moves a muscle and I realize with a laugh that the poor child has fallen asleep. He's a terrible Career.

I slowly walk towards the pyramid of food, my eyes never leaving the boy until I'm right up on it. Finch is already there, grinning as if it's her birthday come early.

"Well this is fun," she whispers with a grin. "Grab what you want, but be subtle. Take too much and they'll notice."

We nod and begin grabbing supplies. A canteen each, full of water; some bread from our Districts; an apple apiece; a small bag of dried fruit; we top it off with a discarded sleeping bag. Like the thieves we are, we run off into the night and the relative safety of the forest, thankful for the sleeping child from 3 and the predictability of Career Tributes.


	10. Alligator Mutts

**Hello, all. :) I've been working on the story arc this past week and I'm so excited for some of the stuff I get to write about and I can't wait to see what you all think. Too bad it'll be a while... maybe summer'll speed things up.**

**Thank yous go out to all of my readers, followers, and favoriters. More specific thanks to Midnight'sRevenge, Frostivy, TheMaximumExperience, and Anon (Here ya go, dear. Thank you!) for reviewing. I absolutely love reading what you all have to say. And, like I said last time, if you have any questions about anything in the story let me know. I'll respond next Saturday when I post or maybe later today if you review in time. ;)**

**Anyway, here we go. Some Finch 'n Nic time.**

* * *

My fists clench then unclench. I refuse to cry here in this Arena with the entire country watching me. I will not let it happen, I will not show weakness. It doesn't matter how terribly I want to, I won't cry for him.

Then the face of Finch's District partner flashes up in the sky. I look over at her as her head begins shaking. "I told him not to run to the Cornucopia. He knew better and he did it anyway."

Somehow, we end up holding each other as the remaining faces flash in the sky. The faces of the dead. The faces of children who will never get to see their parents again. The face of Zayn, my district partner and friend.

My eyes close as tears threaten to spill. I pull Finch in close for a hug. She embraces me right back. Neither of us are willing to appear weak to the audience, this moment will be taken as the solidification of our alliance. Our partners are gone; we're all that we have left to rely on. Two girls fighting to survive against all odds. It should be dramatic enough for the Capitol.

Once the faces fade away with the anthem, Finch and I crawl in under the bushes I hid in earlier. Neither of us wants to be alone. Besides, it's cool out and we only have the one sleeping bag, which I now realize with a sick feeling in my stomach was probably meant to be Zayn's.

I press the shell to my ear as a tear unwillingly falls.

* * *

We wake up to the boom of a cannon. Instinctively, Finch and I clutch each other and look around us for any sign of danger. After a few, excruciatingly slow minutes, our breathing evens and we let go of each other. The terror has mostly passed.

Finch's brown eyes are wide as she looks at me. "Who do you think it was?" she whispers.

I shake my head, unwilling to speak. I have no idea, but if a guess was necessary, I'd wager it was one of the younger kids. I won't say it though, it sounds too terrible.

"Should we go back to sleep?"

"Probably. Who knows when we'll get another chance?"

She nods and lies back down.

Her breathing evens after a few minutes. It takes well over an hour before mine does too. It's getting harder and harder to shut my mind off and we're only a day in.

* * *

Finch shakes me awake in the morning. She looks disheveled, like she's just woken up too. Her hair's an absolute wreck full of leaves, twigs, and dirt with pieces of it falling out all over the place. There's even a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

I laugh. It sounds throaty and hollow though, a mere echo of what it used to be. If I ever genuinely laugh again, I'll be surprised.

Her brows furrow and she cocks her head.

"You're a mess," I say with a shrug.

"So are you," she counters.

My hand instinctively runs over my hair. It is a mess. It's only been a day since it's been washed but it's already feeling greasy and nasty. I grimace and make a face. "Know where there's a stream?"

She shakes her head, rubbing her eyes.

Crawling out from under the brush, I look up at the sky. It's all blue, no pinks or purples. It's clearly been a long time since sunrise. Part of me is amazed I managed to sleep so long, but now that I'm up it's time to go. Today I will find water and better shelter. I'll learn the area around here and it will be my domain as much as the Cornucopia is the Careers.

Finch joins me, her eyes nervously surveying the area around us.

"Hungry?" Her stomach answers and I pull the red apple out of my pants pocket and hand it to her. She shakes her head and takes her own. "We should find a stream. There have to be a few flowing off from the lake."

The apple crunches in my mouth, juice flowing down my lip. It's sweet and I want more, but I pace myself, knowing food will be scarce from here on out.

"Come on," I say, striding towards the Career Camp. "Let's find some water."

Finch follows me with our sleeping bag tucked under one arm.

The Career campsite isn't the hub of activity I'd imagined it would be. 3 is tinkering, completely unsupervised, with something near the pile of food. It looks technological, but I have no idea what it could be. A glance at Finch's furrowed face tells me she's not sure what it all means either. The only other person I see wandering around is Peeta and it really doesn't look like he's doing anything productive. It's impossible to not wonder about where the others are. They could be watching us attempting to watch them, evil smirks in place as their weapons rise to the ready.

Finch takes the lead now, plunging me out of my dark thoughts as she begins wandering stealthily around the edge of the forest towards the shining lake. I follow her bright red hair, my feet careful not to step on anything lying in the undergrowth. As we creep, we keep a lookout for our enemy.

Once we work our way around the edge of the Cornucopia, it's revealed that the main four are asleep inside of it in a mess of sleeping bags and limbs.

Unwillingly, I feel my blood boil when I see Glimmer snuggled up to Cato, her leg casually thrown over his stomach and her head nestled in his neck. But I shake my head and let the feeling go. Until the end, there is no real loyalty between us. Even then, loyalty is probably nonexistent now that Zayn is out of the picture. A frown tugs at my face as I cast his sleeping form one last look before hurrying to catch up with Finch who has managed to silently scamper a few meters ahead of me.

I want so terribly to jump into the lake once we're near enough to it. It's highly unlikely that Peeta or 3 will try and hurt or kill us, but there's still the risk that the quartet will wake up and slaughter us in the water.

Cato's words from the Training Center echo in my head as I watch the rippling surface. _I'll drown you, babe._

A shiver unwillingly slides up my spine as my arms wrap around my body.

"You ok?"

Finch's golden brown eyes are filled with concern, probably at the possibility of a weak or useless partner. I delude myself into believing it's genuine worry though.

"Yeah," I mumble.

"No, you aren't," she says, but doesn't press the issue. Instead she goes marching along the bank of the lake from inside the safety of the forest.

Eventually, the lake curves out and narrows into a river, which we follow until it's more of a shallow stream. The terrain has changed by now too- no longer dense brush, but more open and almost beach-like. The water is flanked on either side by rocks that dip slowly down into it or jut out above it forming outcroppings. As we walk along I identify some fish swimming around near the surface. They should be easy enough to catch, even without a trident. It's almost as if the Gamemakers are trying to help us out by giving such an easy food source to us. Either that or their mocking us, knowing the fish are too quick to catch or that we won't be able to light a fire to cook them with.

"This shouldn't be too bad," I say. My hand gestures to the nearest bit of river.

Finch looks skeptical but nods.

I strip down to my underwear and jump in, not even waiting on my ally. The water feels wonderful. It's cool, refreshing, and washes some of my worries down the river with it. My head dips under so I can tug my bun loose and work some of the knots out. It feels so good to let everything loose for a few minutes.

When I emerge, Finch is still standing on the shore, fully dressed. She's looks nervous as she alternates watching me and the forest. She must think there's something or someone out there.

"Come on, Finch. It's now or never," I call, treading the water.

Her eyes meet mine and she beckons me closer. A chill runs down my spine as the idea of danger being behind me fills my mind. Or maybe it's in the water with me. Gamemakers have been known to put a dangerous species in a foreign habitat in order to keep tributes on their toes. What if there's an alligator lurking in the water below me? Or a shark? What if it's a muttation made from the two of them?

My body stiffly moves through the water, perfectly aware that this could be my last few moments.

When I reach the edge, I run out and over towards the girl from 5. My head whipping around to make sure I'm safe. There's nothing there though. No terrifying animal or muttation. No hulking tribute about to spear me through the gut. It's just as peaceful as it was when I leapt into the water.

My blood boils. She's terrified me for absolutely no reason. I turn towards her about to give her a piece of my mind when she mumbles three words that cause me to freeze in place.

"I can't swim."

This thought had never occurred to me. When you grow up around something it's easy to forget that not everyone has the same talents or abilities as you. Survival skills like swimming and fishing are so easily taken for granted in 4. It's a way of life for us. I can't believe I'd been so thoughtless though. I should have known Finch couldn't swim, especially since she'd told me she was basically starting from ground zero in the Training Center that first day we met.

I nod sadly. "We'll move to a shallower place. The current's a little too strong here anyway."

She shoots me a grateful look and scampers ahead as I gather up my clothes and follow her. She picks a pretty shallow pool (it looks like it will only reach to about our waists) with an almost nonexistent current.

By the time I catch up with her she's dipping her toes in the water to test it.

I set my clothes beside hers on the bank and watch for a minute as she slowly puts her leg in up to the knee with a huge shiver. I giggle and she shoots me a glare.

"I'd just jump in," I say, walking in at a brisk pace so my body will readjust to the cooler temperature. She never moves as I walk past her and in to the deeper water, ducking my head under.

My fingers go back to my hair as I continue working out the knots and scrubbing out the dirt and grease. It's nice to get this out and be clean again. It's also mind-boggling that I managed to get this filthy before twenty-four hours were even up. Hopefully this won't have to become a daily ritual, much as I'd like a daily swim it's too much of a risk.

"It's freezing," Finch howls and I turn to see her hugging herself as she hunkers down to about her neck.

"Go under. You'll adjust quick enough."

Her head goes under and she emerges quickly, spluttering and scowling at me. "Still cold."

"Give it time," I say, my mind wandering back to a time similar to this when Castalia and I had taken our siblings to the beach for the day. Keenan had hated the first half of our visit. After he'd adapted to the feel of the ocean and the cooler temperature though, he'd only come out when he was too tired to play around anymore. The day before the Reaping he'd begged me to take him back and I'd promised him I would in a couple days after things settled down… the thought of not being able to now makes me sick to my stomach.

I finish washing and crawl out of the water to lie on the shore and dry off. My hands rake through my hair, tugging on any leftover knots, before securing it on top of my head in a bun.

All around us the forest is grumbling with the sounds of habitation. There are birds chirping and frogs croaking. I even see a little rabbit hopping around in the undergrowth across the river. Other than that one animal though, there's no movement in the woods. It's positively still, which is both unnerving and comforting at the same time. No movement means no tributes are coming closer, but it could also mean that another tribute has scared away most of the animals that would normally be scampering about. I'm worried that we've been in the same place too long. Being stagnant could make us more susceptible to an attack.

"Almost done?" I call.

Finch nods, her red head disappearing under the water again for a brief moment before reappearing a few feet closer to me. She's at least trying to swim, it's more progress than most would attempt to make.

She walks out, her body shivering as she sits down beside me. "Can you do my hair?" she asks. "I'm too shaky to do it."

"Sure," I say, crawling behind her. Her hair is soft and most of the tangles are out of it so my fingers slide easily through before parting it down the middle. I gently take one side and then the other, twisting and securing them low on either side of her head, almost exactly as they had been before our swim. "Done." I pat her shoulders and move to sit beside her again, facing the forest to her back. It's impossible to be too careful.

"Do you and Cato have a deal?" she asks after a few minutes.

A knot clenches in my stomach. I really don't want to lie to her, but I also don't want her to know everything. She's as close to a friend as I have here, but she's also my competition, my enemy. "What do you mean?" I ask, attempting to find a loophole and buy myself some time.

"Is there anything going on between you two?" When I open my mouth to tell her no, she adds, "Please be honest, Nicaea. I can handle whatever it is."

Her calling me by name gets me and my head falls down to rest on my knees. I'll tell her part of what's happened between us, but not everything. Not yet anyway. "If him promising to drown me counts as a deal, then yes."

Red hair moves slowly left and right. "He likes you, you know."

I laugh. "He likes the idea of killing me."

"You like him too," she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. She's enjoying squeezing little details out of me and reading between the lines.

"I like the idea of killing him."

She laughs, a high-pitched bleating sound. "Good luck with that."

"It can be done." I think of Finnick and his Arena, of how he made a net and trapped the other tributes before killing them with the trident his sponsors bought for him. I could do that and wouldn't it be a shock to the Capitol citizens?

Finch has other ideas though. "Maybe if you work your mermaid powers on him and lure him into the water." She looks thoughtful for a moment. "I bet if you were swimming topless he'd dive right in without a second thought." She giggles a little. "Spear boy too. Then they'd kill each other trying to get to you first and we'd be down two Careers." She lies down beside me. "That's a good one. We'll have to keep that plan on the backburner."

I roll my eyes. "Right. If times get tough, I'll keep that in mind."

By now I'm mostly dry so I grab my clothes and begin tugging them on. Finch follows suit, despite still being mostly wet.

"Alright," she says, as she secures her boot on her left foot. "Let's split up and explore some. We'll meet here at sunset then head out to sleep somewhere safe."

"Sounds good," I say, heading off to go further into the woods and unexplored territory. I'll leave her the sleeping bag to carry around this time too, knowing she won't part with it and knowing that asking to take it would most likely end our alliance prematurely. Similar to the seagulls back home, a forager like her won't give up a treasure once they've found it.

"For what it's worth, I think you two would make adorable babies," she calls.

I scowl at her over my shoulder. The idea of reproducing with him is a nauseating one and, considering our situation, impossible.

The woods here are surprisingly bountiful as a food source. There are lots of fruit bushes to raid from, but I don't dare touch them in case I mess up like I did at Training. How sad would it be if I died because I ate a fruit? Almost as bad as dying because of an alligator in the water. Now that I'm actually wandering inside of the woods, I realize that there are quite a few animals wandering around. For the most part it's just birds and rabbits, things that I'm not sure how to trap, which means my only source of protein will be any fish I can catch in the river.

The time passes slowly as I wander through the forest. It's true that I'm getting more familiar with the trees and am finding identifying markers here and there, but it seems like such a waste of time. Certainly there's a better way to spend the afternoon.

It's just as I'm thinking this that I stumble across the first of the caves.

There are six of them scattered around the river. A couple have pools of water forming at the bottom of them. They're like little, hidden ponds. I yearn to explore them, but hold back knowing they're probably infested with all sorts of poisonous water snakes. Three of the others look fit for habitation with one located under a dip in the river that I find particularly appealing. The sixth and final cave is essentially blocked off by rocks so I can only catch a small glimpse of what lies behind, which just looks like more rocks.

I spend a fair amount of time exploring these caves. Even though the others are more accessible and larger, my favorite is easily the one hidden under the rapids. The river speeds up and becomes dangerous about a mile from the lake. There aren't any fish here, which makes me think other tributes will stay away too. When the river takes a sharp plunge to the right, there's a piece of rock that continues to jut out. It's under this that there's a crack which serves as the entrance to the cave. It's almost undetectable, making it perfect.

Since it's located under the river, it's loud and cold in the cave, the thundering of the river echoing in my ears, but it's dry and a bit of light comes in from small cracks that I can't locate. This will be my hideout when and if things go bad. I won't even tell Finch about this.

When I emerge from my cave, it's getting close to sunset so I make my way back to Finch and I's meeting spot. Again, I don't run into any other tributes and easily make my way to our bathing pool in the river.

Finch's red hair stands out dramatically against the green and gray landscape here and I hurry to catch up to her. When she hears my footsteps, her head turns in my direction and she smiles impishly at me. Something must have gone her way while we were apart and, since I never heard the cannon go off, I have absolutely no idea as to what it might be.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I know what they're doing. Find anywhere we could stay?"

I'm not sure who "they" are or what "they" are doing. I can assume she's referring to the Careers, but it's impossible to know for sure. She'll tell me when we get settled down for the night. "There's a cave a little ways from here we can sleep in."

"Awesome. Lead the way."

It's a quick jog to the nearest cave, but it's one of the smaller ones so I head a little further to a slightly bigger cave. As we go along, I notice Finch stopping periodically to collect some berries. My stomach unwillingly grumbles, clearly remembering that the last time it was fed was breakfast this morning.

Finch chuckles and grabs a few more berries.

"Here it is," I say gesturing to the rocky room when we get close enough.


	11. I'll Kill You

**I'm going to start bribing you, my darling readers. That's right. Bribery. I'm officially done with school for the semester and am going to be spending 16 hours a week sitting in front of a computer screen at work for the next 2 months. You know what that means? I am going to get a ton of writing done. As in, I could finish this story this summer. Ok... maybe not. It keeps growing the more I write or think about it because my silly, little brain keeps adding things in (and oh, do I have some surprises in store).**

**Anyway, my bribes are simple and the usual ones authors have on here- the more comments I get, the sooner I update. 4 will probably be the magic number each chapter. 4 before the Saturday update and I'll post as soon as I see it. I think that's reasonable, yeah? Motivation for me to keep writing anyway.**

**As per usual, I want to thank you all for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing. Whether you realize it or not, it makes a huge difference. Special thanks to Frostivy for reviewing.**

**I'll quit babbling now. Here we go, a bit more action this time around. Or a lot. However you wanna look at it.**

* * *

"Come on," she whispers. "It won't be that bad. I watched 3 set it up; I know where the mines are."

I nervously look over at her. We've been hiding in the bushes all day, watching the Career camp. At first I was worried that this would be a waste of time, but I was quickly and easily proven wrong. The Careers adopted the boy from 3 into their alliance so that he could reactivate the mines that kept us on our pedestals and place them around their supply of food.

Everything makes sense again.

They haven't killed the kid though, which puzzles me. Normally after a lower district has finished being useful, they kill them. But they haven't. They've gone off hunting again by the light of the moon, their eerie laughter floating back to us through the forest.

And 3 is alone to protect the food.

Just like last time.

Except he has bombs to help him out now.

"Just run out of the forest like last time to distract him. I'll grab some food and run like hell." Our brown eyes lock for a minute. "We can do this, Nic."

I nod, eyeing the spear 3's clutching. "Ok."

She begins creeping through the undergrowth towards the pyramid of food and I head in the other direction. My palms sweat as we get further away and I can feel my heart rate accelerating. If we didn't need more food I wouldn't bother with this, but we can't seem to gather enough berries to get us by and I haven't found anything to make a decent net out of yet.

Finch is right though. We can manage the Careers little tower of terror.

About a quarter of the way around the meadow I stop. I can see Finch poised and ready to take off as soon as she can. She nods in my direction and I race forward, flying through the trees like the pack of Careers is right behind me. I run right through the edge of the meadow, towards the boy as he awkwardly jumps to his feet, ready to fight me off.

My heels dig into the ground as he raises his spear and totters slightly to one side. Inwardly, I smile. He can't throw that thing. He can barely hold it up. A brief glimpse of Finch's fiery red hair shows her picking her way out of the hellhole, so I pivot and race back towards the trees.

Let 3 think I accidentally ran into the grove.

We'll need a better strategy now that I've been spotted though. 3 will be sure to tell the others he saw me and they'll probably be too wary to leave him alone again. They'll stay closer or not leave at all if I show up again. They may even leave another pack member to keep a lookout with him. Either way, it's not good.

I race silently through the trees back to our cave hideout. I know the path pretty well by now, having worn it thin over the last two days to check in on our biggest threat. Finch soon catches up with me and I veer off to the left, towards the lake, before stopping.

Finch slides to a halt beside me and holds up a bag of dried fruit as we struggle to catch our breath. "This, a couple more apples, and I refilled our canteens."

I'm impressed. She filched more in a few seconds than I could have in a couple minutes.

"I debated on the dried fruit," she says, popping her pinky finger. It's something I've noticed she does when she's thinking really hard or is nervous. "It was pushed under the apples though, so I figured we'd be alright."

I nod. "They've probably forgotten about it anyway. I don't see them enjoying dried-" I tilt my head closer to read the label- "apricots."

Finch gives a short laugh and nods. "We should probably get back to the cave."

"Yeah, I don't like not knowing where the Careers are. Especially out here in the dark."

* * *

It's my fourth day in the Games and I'm still alive. Part of me can't believe it. I've made it further than nearly half my competition. I have a decent food source. I have an ally. All that's missing is a sponsor and I haven't even given up hope on that yet. It's still early and it's not like I'm in dire need of anything.

No, I think happily, for a girl facing death I'm doing quite well.

Naturally, it's just as I'm thinking this that I see the Career Pack.

They're under a tree whooping and hollering. I know I should turn tail and run, but I don't know if I can. The idea of turning my back on them seems so inherently wrong. What if one of them spots me and kills me when I'm not looking?

I duck down into the undergrowth, my heart beating a mile a minute. Is it possible to crawl away? It might be my best and smartest option. It's not like Finch'll be looking for me. We split up for a couple days to keep people with peering eyes from suspecting too much.

There's a crash from the Careers and I look over the leaves to see Cato clambering up to his feet. He doesn't look happy anymore and I'm so thankful I'm not stuck over there near him.

The curiosity is killing me though. What could be up there that he'd want so badly? It must be a major tribute for him to try climbing a tree and to get them this riled up. The only ones worth fighting over would be Thresh and Katniss. Finch said Thresh was in the tall grass near the lake and I don't see him climbing a tree. So that leaves Girl on Fire.

Peeta stands a bit apart from the others, not partaking in their savage behavior. I remember his confession during the Interviews. He's loved Katniss for years.

And it clicks. He's playing the Careers to protect Katniss.

I watch as he says something and the others nod before settling in under the tree.

A grin adorns my face. This boy is good. He has them completely fooled. They really think he's on their side. That he's really going to help them kill the love of his life. Idiots. This is almost as brilliant as them leaving 3 in charge of their food supply. Their Mentors need slapped for approving these plans.

I settle back in under a nearby bush, careful not to make any noise. I'm not going to risk trying to run away and I don't want to risk getting caught. The sun dips a little lower in the sky signaling nightfall is close. I take a few berries from my pants pocket and pop them in my mouth. After they fall asleep tonight I'll slip away. For now though there's time for a nap.

With the conch shell pressed close to my ear, the sound of the ocean sends me into a pleasant sleep.

* * *

I wake to the sound of screams and the boom of a cannon.

Silently, I crawl out from under the shrubbery I'd slept in. I'm completely disoriented and terrified. What's happening?

Screams echo from the Careers' camp a few yards away from me. My every instinct tells me to run, but I can't. I'm frozen in place, completely petrified. Something bad's happened, something bad enough to send the Career Pack into turmoil.

Daylight's just broken and I can make out their forms as they go running towards the nearby lake. Something's following them in the air and I can just barely make out the buzzing noise that says it's insects not some type of small, vicious bird attacking them.

When they're out of sight, I turn to see Katniss Everdeen woozily climbing down from the tree. Something's wrong with her, but I don't know what. It must be something to do with the bugs, they must be venomous.

With only her around I feel the confidence to creep closer and figure out what's happened.

She's bends down, grabbing something. Then I see the silver bow and arrows as she easily tosses them onto her back, like she's done it a hundred times, like they were meant for her. That must have been what got her an 11 in training. She must be wicked with a bow. Slowly, she begins walking, but it's towards the Careers.

I bite my lip. Should I help her? It'd be easy to let her fall into their clutches and let them end her. It'd be one less tribute to worry about. I know Finch would let her go.

Then Peeta comes barreling out of the trees towards her, his face looks slightly swollen. "Run!" he yells. "Go, Katniss!" He gives her a shove in the opposite direction. "Get out of here!"

Katniss stumbles off the way he pushed her and gets to the trees just in time, her form disappearing in the woods as Cato emerges behind Peeta with a livid look on his face.

"Where is she, 12?" he growls. His sword is clenched tightly in his right hand and his body is poised to strike. If Peeta doesn't give him the right answer he's dead; if he does give the right answer, the girl he loves and just saved is dead. It's an awful stalemate and I hope to never be put in that position.

Peeta looks torn for only a moment.

Time seems to still as his hand points in my direction.

I'm frozen all over again.

Both his and Cato's eyes fall on me.

Oh no.

This is bad.

Something flashes across both their faces. Peeta's looks akin to regret. He didn't know I was here but he knows we're both going to die now. Cato just looks sick. His brows come together and momentary confusion takes over. Then he stabs Peeta, his sword sinking deep into the other boy's leg.

"Cato!" I scream, completely horrified as Peeta cries out and blood flows freely down his leg. How could he do that? Why didn't he just kill him?

Our eyes meet, blue and brown. He looks more angry than I've ever seen him.

Peeta takes advantage of Cato's momentary distraction and flees from the Career. As he runs away something crunches under his feet and more of the flying insects come zooming out. Some take after him and others come flying at Cato.

The bulky tribute moves to go after the other, but a few of the bugs sting him, slowing him down just slightly.

I walk forward. I have to stop him. He'll torture Peeta if I don't.

"Cato, please, don't," I say and he whirls around to glare at me, completely ignoring the bugs stinging him.

"What are you doing here, babe?"

"I was hiding. You know, so you lot wouldn't kill me."

He glares. "I try my best to protect you and this is how you return the favor." He's struggling to stay upright now. There's something in the venom from these bugs and it's getting into his system.

"What are those things, Cato?" I ask, nervously coming closer. They seem to be gone now, but I can't be too careful.

"I don't know. They're gold." He swats at one with his sword. "And they keep stinging me."

"Tracker jackers," I whisper. "How many times have they stung you?"

He shrugs as his body collapses against a nearby tree. Apparently a lot.

I come closer and look around. I don't see anyone, but that doesn't mean anything. Clove or Marvel or Glimmer could be back any minute. They won't be as forgiving as Cato about me being here.

He hisses in pain as he pokes one of the stings on his arm.

Should I leave him? Should I dump him off at the Cornucopia? Or should I take him with me and fix these stings? The obvious answer is to leave him and let him die, it's the easiest option. Something holds me back though. He said he was protecting me.

I look into his eyes to question him on this, but realize that I'm not only looking at Cato's blue eyes. They're the same as Keenan's after he's hurt himself and he's looking at me pleadingly to make it stop. My mind has made itself up; I can't walk away from those eyes knowing I did nothing to help. They'll haunt me for the rest of my days.

So I reach down and slowly help him up. I try and wrap my arm around his waist, but he doesn't like that too much and pulls away with a growl. I send a glare his way before grabbing his arm and leading him towards the safety and solitude of the caves. The closest one is the smallest. I don't want to be crammed into a small space with this brute, especially when he's hallucinating on tracker jacker venom, but do I really have time to get to a bigger one?

Cato stumbles into me and points at a bush like it's the most beautiful thing ever.

It's clear that I don't have much time.

Leaves crackle behind me and I turn around in time to see the boy from 10 emerging from the trees. His eyes are narrowed as he limps closer to me and my hand tightens on Cato's arm as my eyes zero in on the knife in the boy's hand.

"I knew there was something between you two," he spits out. "Move out of the way, 4, and I won't kill you." He holds the knife easily, like he's done so his entire life and he probably has, coming from 10 I'm sure he uses a knife daily with cattle.

I shake my head numbly. I've made my choice and I intend to stand by it. I'm not letting Cato die here.

"Move. This is our one chance to kill him and I'm not wasting it," he says, his voice low as he takes another step forward.

I follow suit, standing behind a dazed Cato to protect him. "Get lost, 10," I growl. I might not have a weapon, but I doubt I need one. His bum leg will keep him from moving too quickly and I can at least tackle him and try to get his weapon away from him.

"I'll kill you, 4!"

Suddenly, Cato whirls around and swings his sword blindly at the boy. He's not steady at all and he almost loses his balance, but it's enough to stop 10 in his tracks. Cato growls, lunging forward.

It's a miss, but it's enough to send 10 loping off. That must have been too close for comfort and now what little nerve he had is gone. Even drugged, Cato's more threat than the poor boy can deal with.

Cato stumbles after him, swinging his sword dangerously around him. "Cato!" I call and he turns around, his sword falling at his feet as he looks at me. "Come on. Let's get you out of here." I pick up the sword, amazed at how heavy it is, and wrap my arm around his waist to help support him. He's weaker now, the venom taking over his bloodstream, so he doesn't put up a fight this time. "Can you carry this?"

His brow furrows and I notice how cloudy his eyes are getting. There isn't much time before he's gone. "Brutus?" he asks, grasping the sword.

I roll my eyes and nod. "Come on. It isn't too much further."

We awkwardly stumble forward. As we go, he leans more and more against me and I have trouble keeping us going in the right direction. Cato's big, but when he's drunkenly leaning on you he's even bigger and extremely hard to navigate. The major difference in our height and weight is now painfully obvious to me.

As we go he points at random trees calling them Brutus, Enobaria, Clove, and Caesar. I worry that this might all be for naught.

Eventually we make it to the cave and by that time Cato's eyes are nearly closed and he's mumbling incoherent sentences. His body crashes to the floor and I wince as his head hits the rocky surface hard.

He groans and I crouch down to check his head. There's no blood thankfully. I pull him a little further into the cave before taking my jacket off and placing his head gingerly on it like a pillow. I take his sword away too and tuck it in a nook in the cave. I don't want him maiming himself in his hallucinated state or another Tribute coming in and killing him with it. That would be bad.

He looks rough, I notice as I cast him a final glance from the cave entrance. There's a scratch on his cheek and I can see welts from the tracker jacker stings popping up on his skin. I need to treat those really soon, before the poison can do too much damage to him.

First though, I need to find the leaf from Training. The one that draws out poison. The one I showed off to the Gamemakers.

I take off out of the cave. There should be some nearby. The trainer said they grow under trees near the water.

My eyes scour the treeline as I walk along the river. The plant I'm looking for is a dark green with lighter green streaks on it. It's supposed to be on a vine. No flowers. The leaf almost forms a circle with gentle, curving edges. If chewed up, the antidote will get into the wound and fix things quicker.

Finally, just when I worry I won't be successful, I spot them under a large tree.

It takes me about twenty minutes to gather up enough of the leaf to start treating his stings. I had to keep looking around and checking on Cato to make sure he was ok, which delayed me some but I can't believe that 10 is gone for good. So I tell myself it was for the best, that Cato's still an easy target and 10 wouldn't give up that easily if he really wanted to bring the big Career down.

I make it though, a bunch of the leaves stuffed into my pockets as I quickly make my way back to the cave.

When I step inside worry fills me. The stings are huge and have grown quite a bit since I last popped in. He's also groaning in pain and completely unconscious. He needs medical attention and he needs it now.

I kneel down beside him. I learned how to deal with tracker jacker stings in Training, but I'm still nervous. The odds of me messing up are exponentially high. I swallow my nerves down though and pop a couple of leaves in my mouth.

They're terribly bitter. My stomach clenches in an awful way, but I keep what little food is in there down. Cato needs me right now and I won't let him down.

I pull out the stinger from the first wound, a rather large one on his right arm. He shudders as yellow pus oozes forth. I let it, waiting until it's completely drained before leaning down, pushing some of the leafy concoction out of my mouth, and pressing it against his wound. To top it off, I press a whole leaf over it. Even if it is a bit gross, that will get the antidote into his system and keep it there.

The pattern gets repeated to the others, one on his other arm, leg, stomach, and neck. It's when I'm leaning down to apply it to the last one on his cheek that it clicks in my head. I suppress a giggle as I realize that the people of the Capitol will take this as a perverted sort of mermaid's kiss. The final leaf in place, I decide to go with it. I can be a desperate mermaid trying to save a gorgeous warrior. This might be the thing to get me some sponsors.

Kneeling next to him, I push his blonde hair off of his hot forehead. He looks so peaceful now with his eyes closed and his body entirely relaxed. He's not hallucinating anymore either, which is a relief. He may pull through this if his fever breaks.

My hand wanders around his face, caressing his cheek. I lean in close and whisper in his ear, "You can't die on me, Cato. I need you."

I put the remaining leaves in my pants pocket, there should be enough there for a second application. This means I don't have to leave him for now. I can stay and watch over him to make sure he's getting better.

I look around the cave in the half-light. I need to stand watch, like a real Career, and to do that I need a weapon.

The sword feels heavy in my hand when I remove it from its hiding place, but I manage to carry it over to the mouth of the cave. Even if it won't do me any real good in a fight, it still might scare someone off or buy me some time to think of a better plan.

I perch myself on a rock at the lip of the cave. To any passerby I'm invisible, but I can see the surrounding area rather well. Let anyone try and come. They won't get past me.


	12. Mermaid in a Trap

**My usual update day, dearies. Thank you to Midnight'sRevenge, Once-A-Hatter-Always-Mad, Frostivy, and TheMaximum Experience for updating. Thank yous to the rest of ya'll who read and favorited and reviewed. :) You really can't understand how much it all means to me.**

* * *

He won't stop shaking. He's practically convulsing on the floor and has been for probably an hour now.

I'm absolutely terrified. I don't know what to do. I don't know what I've done wrong. I don't know what to do to fix this. I've dealt with sick or injured people before- kids practically drowning at the Academy, Lilaea breaking her arm one day, Keenan's million and one scraped knees, I'd even helped when my mother was sick. None of that is helping me now though.

His whole body is shivering, his teeth are chattering and nothing I'm doing is fixing anything. I tried wrapping him up in my jacket. I've tried rubbing his limbs to get his blood flowing. Nothing. No progress. And he still has that stupid fever.

I growl in frustration as I realize he probably just needs a blanket and that Finch has one a cave or two over. Of course, telling Finch would blow our alliance and she'd insist on ending Cato on sight. So, either way, Cato's a goner. There's no winning. Despite my best efforts, I'm going to lose.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know if there's anything I can do. Maybe I've already killed him. Maybe I used the wrong leaves earlier.

Right as I'm about to scream and cry a soft beeping noise reaches my ears.

My head whips around as I look for the source. I know what that sound means, I know what it signifies. We have a sponsor. Someone's going to save us. Going to save Cato.

I run out into the night, completely disregarding all thoughts of safety and other Tributes looking to kill me. Only one thought fills my mind: where's the parachute at?

The moonlight illuminates the world around me, but for the life of me I can't see it. My eyes flick past the river, the rocky beach, and the trees. It's not here. I've imagined it all. I'm going to lose it and Cato's going to die. I'm going to die.

Slowly, I turn back to the cave. I'll have to risk trying to make a fire. It's the only solution left.

It's then that I see it- the silver parachute shining in the moonlight from on top of our hideout, a large 4 emblazoned on the side of the package. Another soft ding lets me know it's real. All the stress leaves my body and my hands reach up and cradle it. The solution to our problems is in this package.

This rather small package. Too small, I realize. Unless it's medicine it can't be much help. Or matches to light a fire. That would be a double gift since it would also mean the area is free of predators.

I don't really care what it is though. Any help is better than what I had in the cave.

"Thank you," I say softly to the night sky, to our sponsor. "We'll save him."

It's too dark in the cave to open the package in there and inspect our gift, so I sit down and slowly unwrap it out here in the open. It's like my birthday come early. I can't help my hands shaking as they reveal the contents. It's a blanket and a note.

I unfold the paper and read it first. Maybe there'll be some advice or directions to a plant that'll heal him quicker.

_Told you. Snuggle for more gifts. – F_

I roll my eyes. Of course he'd take excessive pride in knowing his idea was working. Of course he'd insist on me continuing with it. Of course he'd use bribery to get his way. Of course he wants me to do even more. Stupid mentor.

Now isn't the time for mental rantings at Finnick though.

I take the blanket out of its box and I can't help the surprised noise that escapes my mouth when it unfolds and becomes much larger than I thought possible, taller than I am and just as wide. I just hope it's warmer than I think it is too. A sheet won't do him much good at this point.

I take our prize into the cave and frown when I see his shaking has gotten worse. I'll scream if this doesn't work. I'll run screaming out into the night, right into the Career camp so they can end me right there.

I fan the blanket out over him, letting it fall all around him before tucking the edges in close, like a cocoon. Almost as soon as the blanket's set in place his shaking subsides. I smile, grateful, and can't help but envelop his cocooned body in a hug.

We're going to make it. Everything will be ok.

The relief I feel is more than just knowing his death won't be because of me. No, I admit to myself, it's because, for reasons I can't yet explain, I don't want him to die.

* * *

"I can't believe you slept within ten feet of a Career camp," she says incredulously. "Why didn't you slip away in the night?"

"I told you," I say with a sigh. "I fell asleep."

"How?" she hisses, leaning close to my face. "How do you fall asleep with bloodthirsty killers feet from you?"

"They weren't going to find me," I whisper. "They were after Katniss."

Finch makes a disgusted sound. "You mean that, if they did, you knew Cato wouldn't let them kill you. When are you going to admit that there's something between you two?"

I can feel my cheeks heat up. Maybe that was why I was able to fall asleep so easily there. I shake the idea off; at that point, I didn't know he'd been protecting me. Not that that really made much difference. I'd have slept there regardless. I was tired and they had all their attention on the Girl on Fire. "I told you. He wants to kill me. That's all there is there."

"Right," she says, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Where is he anyway?"

I shrug.

"You saw all the others acting like they were dying on the beach down by the Cornucopia and we know Glimmer's the only one who actually died. I don't get it. I don't know where he is." Her pinky knuckle cracks. She's nervous.

"Maybe he's lying in the forest somewhere with a bunch of stings. I told you that's what happened to me." I've been lying to Finch since I found her earlier this afternoon. I told her the truth up until Glimmer died. After that, as far as she knows, I too was stung by tracker jackers and wandered around the woods on some sort of hallucinated high until the morning when I was better. No Cato. No sponsors. No more than she needed to know.

She takes a large bite out of her apple. "Maybe he'll die soon. Be nice not to have to worry about him too."

I look out over the river, watching as it lazily slopes around the bend. I can see for a ways around us from our perch on top of the cave. Anyone or anything out of the ordinary would be immediately apparent from here. Thankfully, there isn't much to take in though. We haven't even seen another tribute since we raided the pyramid an hour ago and they were all passed out from stings so they hardly count.

"If only we could have killed them all while they were flopping around in the sand," she says bitterly. "We'd have no problems getting Sponsors then. Everybody'd love us."

"If we did that," I say, leaning back on the warm rock, "we'd have to kill Thresh too and I don't fancy our chances with that."

Finch nods. "Fair enough. They're a necessary evil." She's silent, the cogs in her brain whirring for about a minute before she looks up at me with wide eyes. "After they take out Thresh, we can slip some nightlock in their food supply. One berry's juice in their water supply would do it!"

My eyes widen now. How can she think these things up? A small part of me worries that Finnick might have been right yet again, that Finch is a dangerous ally or that she'll turn on me. I shrug the feeling off though. She won't turn on me. At least not yet. Not until I've lost all usefulness or become a threat.

I'm still nervous though. I won't be sleeping in the same cave as her anymore. "You almost sounded like a Career there," I say, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Is there something you're not telling me? Something going on between you and Marvel?"

Her bleating laugh fills the air. I'm teasing and she knows it. "You're the one with a thing for Careers, Nicaea."

I let out a groan and close my eyes, feeling the sunshine soaking into my skin. "Oh yeah, bulging muscles, a talent for swinging a sword around, and an overwhelming desire to slaughter me. What's not to love?"

We both giggle.

There's a rustle in the woods and our heads whip around, immediately silent and wary. The entire time we've been wandering the woods, we've never heard anything quite so loud. The rabbits and birds are typically pretty quiet, able to move almost silently through the undergrowth so as to not be caught. Something that loud either wants to be found or doesn't care if it is.

"We've stayed here too long," Finch whispers. "I'll see you later." Then she takes off, not even bothering to take the spare bag of dried fruit with her as she runs in the opposite direction and over the river before easily disappearing in the forest on the far side.

I look after her for a moment, but I know she's gone and I won't be seeing her again until she wants to be found. My eyes wander back behind me, to where the rustling sounds were. The forest looks empty. There's nothing between the trees and I can't make out a shadow anywhere. Maybe it was just a rabbit. Something tells me otherwise though and I follow in Finch's footsteps, shivering nervously as the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Something's watching me.

Before I enter the forest on the other side of the water, I look back again, but I can't see anything. It's just brown tree trunks and green foliage. This unnerves me more than I can say. Whatever's over there isn't going to be found without a fight.

I slowly make my way back to Cato and our hideout in the cave. Along the way, I gather more leaves to treat his wounds and I take care to backtrack in case anyone, even Finch, is following me. I can't risk his life by being careless.

When I walk in, he's still asleep.

He's making progress though. The welts from the stings are down and aren't nearly as red and angry looking. If I continue changing his leaves on a regular basis, he may even wake up soon. I'm nervous about that. He could react either way to me saving him- grateful or hateful. I have a bad feeling it will be the latter; something tells me he doesn't want any help, but to win completely on his own merit.

I spend the last few hours of daylight watching over him in case anything changes. I change the leaves, eat a small supper of dried fruit, and watch the sunset in complete silence and peace. Nothing goes wrong, not until late in the night right as I'm about to doze off.

He sits bolt upright, mumbling incoherently. The sudden movement and noise startles me and I look over at him worriedly. Even in the dark of the cave I can see his wide eyes looking around him. He looks confused like he has no idea what's going on. The drug from the venom hasn't quite worn off yet, but it's close to being gone.

I'm not sure what to do. In Training, they don't tell you about this. They don't say you'll wake up before the venom wears off. I must have done something wrong. Was I right to change the medicine as often as I did?

His mumbling gets louder so I crawl over to him, sleepily rubbing my eyes. "Shh, it's alright," I whisper. "We're going to be ok." My arms wrap around him like they did with Keenan the nights when my parents were away at the doctor's and he had nightmares. Gently, I stroke his brow and whisper in his ear. "It's just the venom. Everything's alright. I'm here." Without even thinking, I kiss his cheek softly and begin singing. There were so many times when Keenan was seemingly inconsolable and oftentimes singing would help calm him down. It seems to work with Cato too; he calms down and eventually slumps against my body, completely exhausted.

I don't dare move in case I wake him and bring on worse hallucinations. I'll have to try and stand guard from here and hope with everything in me that no one comes into the cave tonight.

* * *

When I wake up, it's incredibly warm. The last time I woke up this comfortably was that last morning in the Capitol a week ago. Even with Finch and the sleeping bag it wasn't this nice. I wonder briefly if the Gamemakers have decided to tweak with the weather as a sort of twist to keep us on our toes. They've done it before, but I don't see it happening in this Arena, that's typically only done when they start with an extreme climate.

My eyes open slowly, almost unwillingly, as my arms stretch pleasantly out in front of me. I'd really like to go back to sleep, I haven't slept well the last couple days what with guard duty and creeping Careers.

I sit bolt upright. Guard duty. Careers. Cato. I can't believe I fell asleep like that. What if something had happened?

As cold steel presses against my neck I realize something did happen. Something very, terribly wrong and I'm about to pay for it with my life.

"What do we have here?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "A mermaid caught in a net?" His hand wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to him so that my back is pressed against his chest. "What are you doing, Nicaea?"

A shiver runs down my spine as he says my name. He's never said my name before. I've always been 4 or babe. I wasn't even sure he knew what it was.

He's impatient though, not giving me time to process how I ended up sleeping on top of him; he presses the steel closer to my throat, causing me to hiss in pain as it nips the sensitive skin. He clearly doesn't care about keeping me alive now. Not unless I give him answers.

"You got stung. I've been helping the wounds heal," I whisper, my voice sounding raspy.

The knife moves a little further away, allowing more air to flow through to my lungs. "Where's the rest of the Pack?" His voice is still low and deadly, letting me know he's still wary. He's not going to just believe what I tell him, he's playing along so he can catch me in a slip-up and murder me without a second thought. He's wary by nature; he's not going to accept an answer from an enemy, not until he has all the puzzle pieces and they fit together perfectly.

"They're by the lake. They got stung too. They haven't come out of it yet."

"Stung by what?"

"Tracker jackers. You had Katniss trapped in a tree and she dropped a nest on you. They killed Glimmer and Peeta got away."

He growls deep in his throat and I can't tell if it's because of Glimmer, Peeta, or me. The knife presses closer to my throat, leading me to conclude that it's me. My mind's reeling, I'm going to die. The kid I've spent the last two days saving is going to kill me. Great.

My hands claw at his arm as the steel presses even closer and I feel a slight trail of blood flow down. "Cato!" I gasp, my nails digging into his skin to pull him out of his reverie.

His body snaps to attention and the knife leaves my throat. My fingers gently probe the wound. It doesn't seem too bad, not much more than a glorified paper cut, but when I pull my hands away, the tips are coated in blood.

Cato curses before roughly turning me around to face him. His brows are furrowed as he examines my throat. He doesn't apologize though; he just begins searching one of his pockets. He looks kind of funny- a concerned, dirty face with leaves plastered on one cheek. If my throat wasn't stinging I'd be tempted to laugh at him.

He pulls out a roll of gauze. I could smack myself. Why didn't I check his pockets while he was unconscious? That's probably where the knife was too, either that or it was tucked in his boot.

Our eyes meet. "This is going to hurt a little."

My face scrunches up as he begins slowly wrapping the gauze around my neck. It stings like all hell and I find myself biting my lip to keep from crying out.

"There," he murmurs, tying it snugly, "all done."

I gently feel around my neck, pressing to make sure it's in place. "Thanks," I say, meeting his eyes again. They're still a little cloudy. Maybe that's why he's playing nice, there's still some of the drug in his system.

"How long have I been out?"

"Two nights."

"How did I get here?"

"We walked."

"We?"

I sigh, rolling my eyes. He clearly doesn't remember anything from the last couple days. "Yes, we. I helped you away from the tracker jackers and brought you here."

"Where is here?"

"Cave by the river."

"Is this where you've been hiding?" he asks, watching me carefully.

I smile slyly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

There's a soft growl. Apparently, I shouldn't be messing with him yet.

"I haven't slept in this cave before, no." He raises an eyebrow. "And after today, when I dump you back on your precious Pack, I won't be sleeping here again. So don't even bother trying to come back to kill me."

"I could just kill you now."

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. Surely he wouldn't kill me now, not after what he said after the tracker jackers attacked. Unless that was a fluke, words brought on by the poison that meant nothing. "You could, but where's the fun in that? I thought big, bad Careers liked showing off. Not much of a show to kill a helpless, little girl in a cave."

A small smirk tugs at his face. "Right. Helpless."

I look at him indignantly. "I am. You're the one with the weapons. Not that you need them," I add, glancing at his muscular arms.

My eyes flick back up to his face in time to see a smirk fading. "Speaking of weapons," he says, leaning close to me, an arm on either side of my body and his face mere inches from mine, "where's my sword?"

I barely register what he says as I lean back to gain some personal space. Him being so close is clouding my mind. "I can't tell you that. Not until I'm long gone." That's common sense. The last thing I need to worry about is Cato chasing after me with that stupid sword.

"Aww," he whispers, his breath ghosting over my face, "don't you trust me, babe?" I shake my head. "Even after I protected you?"

The last ones are the only words that stick. He did mean it. He has been protecting me. It wasn't just the tracker venom. "Would you trust me with a trident?" I breathe, barely making a sound. The Capitol can't know about that yet, but I have to get my point across.

Cato sits back, leaning on his hands. "Fine. I'll get it later. Where's some food? I'm starving."

I pull the last apple out of my pocket, tossing it to him.

"Is this it?" His nose wrinkles up as he catches it. "Come on, mermaid, where's the fish?"

"No trident, no net, no fish," I say simply. "That's all I have, you'll have to make do."

"This is what you've been living on?" he asks incredulously as he gestures to the fruit. "Apples? I don't even like apples."

He's such a child.

"Well, if you don't want it, give it back."

"What about my sponsors? Where's the food they've sent you to feed me?" His eyes fly around the cave, searching for the mountains of food I've hid from him.

My chest swells indignantly. _He_ doesn't have any sponsors right now. The forgotten blanket, the only thing we've received, was my gift. Not Cato, the hulk from 2, the boy predicted to win. No, that was mine and mine alone.

Then it clicks. He's probably already received gifts and expects them to just come pouring out of the sky any time he scrapes a knee. Too bad the Games don't work like that, even for Careers. You screw up or you fail and you're completely forsaken. And Cato screwed up. He let Katniss Everdeen go, he was betrayed by Peeta, he let one of his Pack members die, and he had to be saved by the worthless girl from 4. He'll have to do something impressive to win them back over. Something big.

"They haven't sent any food, Cato. All we have is that apple." His blue eyes flash to mine at the word "we". It signifies teamwork, a partnership. It's almost something like disgust that crosses his face. "Don't act like that," I whisper, standing up to leave. "I protected you too."

Right before I exit the cave, there's the sound of scuffling. "Wait, Nicaea." I ignore him though. I don't have to deal with him or this mess anymore. My goal was to fix him up and I did. Other than being hungry, he's good as new. I'm done.

A thud causes me to turn. Cato's sprawled out on the floor, looking like a helpless guppy. Not walking for a couple days and no food will do that to you I suppose. Maybe he isn't all fixed up quite yet. I sigh and go over to him, kneeling by his head. "That probably wasn't the smartest move." I sound bitter, but I can't bring myself to care. I have every right to be bitter if I want to.

"Trying to leave wasn't the smartest move," he says angrily as he pushes himself into a sitting position.

Two can play that game. "Refusing a gift from the only person that cares about you in this Arena wasn't the smartest move."

Our eyes lock. "Fine." He takes a bite of the apple then hands it over to me. My head shakes. He needs that food more than me. He won't give up though, shoving it towards my face. "Eat some. You said it's all you had."

It's kind of touching that he cares, so I take a small nibble from the side to appease him.

"More than that."

I shake my head again. "You need it more than I do. I ate yesterday, you didn't."

The apple flies through the air at him and he catches it effortlessly.

"I'll be back in a minute," I say, leaving again before he can protest.

Outside the sun is shining. The dew on the grass says it's still relatively early in the morning. That means I didn't get too much sleep. The forest around the cave and river looks empty, but there's no such thing as being too safe here so I run a quick perimeter. It still looks like there's nothing around. Our commotion in the cave didn't bring any wandering tributes too close.

As I'm making my way back, a soft dinging sound makes me freeze, the hair rising on the back of my neck. This isn't like last time. Cato isn't dying so I can't be positive that this gift is for me. It could be for another tribute, one who's looking to kill me.

I twirl around, my eyes flitting everywhere, looking for the offending tribute. None emerge though, all I see is the silver parachute slowly floating down to join me, a 4 emblazoned on the side.

I clutch the silver canteen in my hands and rip the note off, eager to see what Finnick has to say.

It's no help of course. Finnick couldn't possibly give beneficial advice while I'm in here fighting for my life.

_Play nice, cupcake. – F_

Three words and a letter. I crinkle the paper up in my hand. I'm too mad to want to keep it. It's not any help anyway. I am playing nice. I took care of the ingrate for two days.

The parachute and note get dropped in the river and I watch as they sail away. That should keep anyone from knowing where I really am.

Inside the cave, Cato is trying to stand up with the help of the cave walls. When he hears me enter, he glares, but the look softens slightly when he recognizes me. "Where'd you go?"

"To look around and make sure no one's around here." I hold out the canteen. I didn't bother looking inside, it was hot and there was a spoon attached to the side so I knew it had to have some kind of food in it. "This came for you," I say.

He takes it without a word and opens it, smiling a bit. He plops down on the ground and begins shoveling in the food. I turn away, slightly disgusted, and watch out the mouth of the cave. Now that he's better we need to get a move on. I need to get away from him.

"Here," he says, and I turn to see him holding the food out to me. The sight of the steam rolling off of it makes my mouth water, but I shake my head.

"No," I whisper. "That's for you. You need to keep your strength up."

Cato rolls his eyes and stands up effortlessly. What a difference food makes. He looms over me, hand holding out the soup. "I already ate enough. What's left is yours." He shoves it into my hands and marches past me, his body hiding most of the entryway from me.

I go and silently sit on the blanket, taking my time eating what remains of the rich, hearty soup. He left me nearly half of it and a small smile tugs at my lips. Maybe he isn't so bad after all.


	13. Just Go

**Thank you to timtab96 (who actually reviewed Chapter 12), Midnight'sRevenge, nimbo, and Guest (Sassy Finnick _is_ the best. ;) There's quite a bit of Cato/Nicaea in this. Hope you like it.), . .Girl.****, and lejohann for reviewing. :) Also, thank you to everyone who read and favorited and reviewed. You all are fantastic!**

**It seems like there was something else I wanted to say, but I can't pull it back... oh well, enjoy, guys!**

* * *

"You need a bath," I say, my nose wrinkling up as I look at him. "If you show up at camp and you have medicine plastered on your face they'll know something's up."

His brows furrow and he reaches up to feel his face. When he finds the leaf he rips it off, discarding it on the ground. He feels around some more, finding the paste I'd chewed up and stuck there. His face contorts in a look of disgust as he scrapes it off. "What is that?"

"Mermaid kiss," I say simply, as I walk past him towards the river.

I can hear him walking after me, mumbling curses under his breath about mermaids. He must have realized it was chewed up leaf.

A small smile tugs at my face.

I plop down on the bank and kick off my boots, letting my feet relish in the cool water. I probably need a bath too, but I'll do that later. Maybe with Finch if I can find her, if not I'll just do it as quickly as possible on my own.

Cato stops next to me on the bank. He doesn't move, he just stands there, watching.

"Go on," I say, looking up at him. "I'm keeping watch. No one's going to hurt rough and tough Cato while he takes a bath." I pointedly look around us for anyone. Naturally, there's only trees and bushes to be seen.

He lets out a low growl and his shirt hits me in the face, startling and knocking me to the side. I let out a small squeak of surprise before tossing it away from me. Even though I'm gross and covered in dirt, I don't want his nasty, dirty, pus-covered shirt on me.

I don't look at him as he strips though, averting my eyes till I hear him wading into the river. Even by District 4 standards Cato looks good. His whole body is covered in muscles that bulge as he moves. His chest is wide, his shoulders deliciously muscular and… I'm ogling without even realizing it. My cheeks flush and I look away. At least he didn't see, even if all of Panem did.

Speaking of Panem, I'm sure they're all craned towards their screens watching him bathe. I can just picture the Capitol men and women swooning, mothers covering children's faces, husbands and boyfriends glaring as their female counterparts watch in awe.

I stifle a giggle and lay back on the warm rock, letting the sun beat down on me. I could sleep right here if I wanted to.

A squeal escapes my lips as cold water hits me and I sit bolt upright. "I thought you were keeping watch."

My brown eyes meet his blue ones. There's a bemused, little grin on his face. "I am."

He lets out a low chuckle before turning back to the water. "If that's what you call keeping watch I'm glad I was unconscious for most of it."

I send him a quick glare before pocketing the knife from his boot and getting up to look around us. There's nothing there, as usual. Then something moves, a slight rustle of leaves, and my head whips over towards it. I look just in time to see the boy from 10 glaring at me, knife glinting evilly in the sunlight.

My mouth opens in a silent scream as my feet backpedal into the water, their noise compensating for my inability to scream. What is he doing here? A smirk adorns his face before he merges back into the undergrowth and disappears from sight. It's like he was never there.

Cato walks over to me, his feet splashing loudly in the water. "What?" I look over to see him in a defensive stance, his hands at the ready to take on whatever comes this way.

"Nothing," I whisper. "I thought I saw an animal."

Annoyance rolls off of him in waves and he shoves past me towards his clothes. "Maybe you are useless after all."

Tears sting my eyes. I'm not useless. I saved his life, both from tracker stings and the freak from 10. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't be here.

I hastily grab my boots and march past him. I'm done. Finnick was right. Alliances only cause trouble. I'll leave his sword near the mouth of the cave pointed in the direction of the Cornucopia and I'll leave him to it. If he's such a big, strong Career he'll have no trouble making his way back.

"Hey!" he calls out when I'm almost out of sight, but I ignore him. I'm done.

The sword comes easily out of its hiding place. It's still far too heavy for practical use for someone of my size and stature so there's no point in keeping it, besides, I promised I'd give it back and I keep my promises. I dump it unceremoniously outside of the cave, pointing it towards his camp. I scrawl an arrow beside it in the dirt just for good measure. I hastily yank the wrapping from my neck, my blood shining a brilliant scarlet against the white, and leave it there too before stomping back into the cave.

Inside, I grab the blanket, not even bothering to fold it before I hurry off. He's not going to catch me and, with any luck, I can raid his campsite again before he gets there.

* * *

"No luck today," a voice says as I near the Cornucopia. "They're mostly awake now. Try and raid them and they'll come hunting for you as soon as they're completely better."

I turn to see Finch, her red hair a complete mess again, perched in a tree above me. She looks perfectly at ease. There must be no one around.

"They're still leaderless," she says, tossing me an apple. "Knives has been tossing around orders like she owns the place though. If he's not back soon she'll be taking his place."

I pocket the apple and clamber up into the tree beside her. I crane around, trying to examine the area around us, but find nothing. Just leaves and bushes as far as the eye can see. I go a little higher up; Cato should be heading this way soon. I need to keep a lookout.

"We should go take another bath," I mumble. "I feel disgusting."

"Can do." She swings down from her branch, landing effortlessly on the floor. "Let's go."

"Not yet," I say. "Get back up here."

"Why, Nicaea? No one's around here."

Then I see him, his tall frame jogging easily through the forest. "Cato," I hiss, hunkering down to blend in more with the tree. I hear her mumble a curse and scurry up to join me.

She scours the area around us before spotting him as well. We sit on the branch, holding one another. She knows he'll kill her without a second thought and a part of me is worried that he might do the same to me after the stunt I just pulled. His angry face and unsheathed sword seems to confirm this idea.

We hold our breath as he walks below us. If we move, we're likely to be killed. Our eyes lock and our arms wrap tighter around each other. Her eyes are absolutely drowning in fear, but her mouth is set in a firm line. She knows precisely how to act around the cameras- hide what you can, try not to let them see your fear.

After a few minutes, we let out a soft sigh and relinquish each other. Another crisis has been averted.

"Come on," I say, clambering down, "let's go take that bath."

I hear her land softly next to me. "Sounds good. This place is starting to creep me out again."

We meander towards the river, me more alert than her. I know 10 is somewhere nearby and I know he wants to kill me. If he gets the opportunity, he'll take it in a heartbeat. I can't give him that opportunity.

We linger along the edge of the woods, looking for any others, but there's no evidence that anyone else is around so we slowly and carefully make our way out. It's nerve-wracking being here in the open with nothing to protect us but the knife that keeps slapping up against my leg. We're sitting ducks, but I push the feeling away. There are two of us to keep watch and Finch is as sharp as they come. We'll be alright.

I strip quickly and hop into the shallow pool before Finch even has her boots off. The cool water caresses my skin and I can feel it taking some of the worry away with the dirt. So what if Cato hates me now and 10 wants to kill me? I can outlast them. I don't need sponsors to survive. I'm not stupid enough to get stung by tracker jackers. I have hiding places and a weapon. Everything will be alright.

My fingers work out the knots in my hair underneath the water. There are quite a few snags as well as some bits of leaf stuck in it. My poor Prep Team must be beside themselves at the state of me. They worked so hard to make me look "normal" and now I'm dirtier than I ever was.

Once I'm clean, I get out and let Finch have the river. As nice as luxuriating sounds, there's no time. Our general position has been given away and, knife or no knife, we're taking a huge risk just taking a bath.

"Have you seen any other tributes?" Finch calls.

"I saw 10 earlier today and Cato with you afterwards. Other than that, no."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her stiffen and look over at me when I mention 10. My brows furrow and I glance over at her, my curiosity peaked. Why does 10 matter to her?

"Where'd you see him at?" she asks, her voice sounds tight.

Something's going on there. Something that isn't right. The hairs on the back of my neck begin to raise so I go back to keeping watch, but my eyes continually stray back to her. "It was just a quick glimpse in the woods." She'll be getting no more details than that, not until I know why she's acting odd.

"Oh," she says softly, going back to scrubbing her arms with a some sand.

I comb the rats out of my hair and quickly tie it up. As soon as she's dressed I'm leaving and putting as much space between the two of us as I can. Finnick was right, I can't trust her. She's a snake in the grass. This means I've now lost all of my alliances here in the Arena. I'll be completely alone from here on out. Just like Finnick predicted I would.

She crawls out onto the rock next to me and begins tugging at her hair. Soon it's up in the two side buns and she's back to keeping a vague lookout. She's far too at ease though. What happened to the jumpy girl from yesterday? The one who ran at the mere rustle of a few leaves?

I decide to test her. Something in my gut tells me she's done something with the boy from 10. I'm not sure what, but something. "Have you seen any tributes?"

She shrugs, her eyes wandering the tree line. "Just you, Cato, and the other Careers."

"It seems odd that those are the only people we've run into."

She shrugs again, not bothering to comment.

I tug my clothes on my still slightly damp body; it's cloudy now so the sun hasn't been doing me its usual favors. My hands subtly feel my pockets as I tug my pants on. The knife and apple are still there as well as my beloved token. I'll toss the apple after I leave, a niggling in my mind says it might be poisoned. I know I'm being ridiculously paranoid, but it could be my saving grace.

Finch stands up and begins tugging on her pants too.

We don't talk anymore and leave with only a slight nod towards each other. She knows I'm aware that something's off. This is the end of our alliance.

* * *

The next day I meander around the woods. It's quiet and peaceful, but I keep my wits about me. It's impossible to know where the other eleven tributes are. I count them off in my head- Marvel, Clove, Cato, the boy from 3, Finch, the girl from 7, the boy from 10, both from 11 and 12. I know where maybe five of them are. That leaves six prowling about, waiting to kill me. The odds aren't in my favor.

I pick a few berries from a nearby bush and pop them in my mouth. They're bitter and all I've eaten since that soup yesterday morning which is wearing terribly thin by now. I'll need to find something more sustaining later, which means a trip to the Career camp. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I almost regret throwing out the apple Finch gave me.

Leaves rustle in the distance and I hear laughter. It's the Careers. I silently climb up a small hill, meaning to watch them and determine whether or not I should run away or take refuge in a tree, but I'm stopped by the sight of the girl from 8.

She's covered in dirt and leaves, as if she hasn't bathed since she got here. It's meant to act as camouflage though; it wouldn't be hard for her to blend in high up in the trees or in the undergrowth looking as filthy as she does. I wonder if that contributed to her high score since people from 7 rarely score above a 6, let alone a 9.

She stands, facing them, with a tomahawk in hand. Her whole body is tense as she watches, waiting for the right moment. Her hand goes up and my eyes follow its trajectory to the blonde in the lead. Right then I know why she got an 9. As someone who worked with lumber she'd be as accustomed to an axe as Zayn or I would be to a trident. It'd be like an extension of her arm rather than something heavy to lug around, like Cato's sword was for me. I also know what she's about to do- take out the toughest of the competition before fleeing off into the shelter of the woods.

My body reacts before my mind has time to catch up with it and warn it away from this foolish act of heroism. 7 has a good twenty pounds and four inches on me, not to mention the wickedly sharp weapon she's brandishing. This plan is a poor one. I could easily get killed, but I'm already dedicated to it.

The force with which our bodies collide sends us tumbling over the far side of the hill and we roll in a tumble down it, directly towards the Careers. She claws at my skin and attempts to hack at me with her tomahawk as she pounds my body into the ground with every roll. I can feel the bruises forming all over me as well as a sharp sting when she slices my upper arm open. I'm not going down without a fight though. I claw at her too, doing my best with what little nail hasn't been broken off over the last couple days. I manage to land a kick to her stomach before we roll apart at the bottom of the hill.

We both whirl around to face each other, our bodies hunkered down in a defensive position. She prepares to throw her axe and my body tenses in order to dodge it.

"I call 7!" Clove squeals.

Just like that, the tension between 7 and I is diffused. We are no longer the immediate threat, the Careers are. I take off to the left just as she dodges to the right. The best way to deal with three Career tributes out to make up for their shortcomings is to outrun them, even if you have a weapon.

There's a sound of heavy footsteps behind me as I run away. My heart sinks. I need to get to the water. I need to escape.

My body veers sharply to the right, dodging trees and low-hanging limbs as I pick up speed. The lake can't be too far away from here. There has to be water somewhere. There has to be safety, some sort of way out.

Something grabs me and slams me into a tree. I wince as pain wracks through me and my head collides hard with the bark. A small whimper escapes as an arm is shoved against my throat.

"Open your eyes." It's a low growl, an order that I immediately follow, looking into the hate-filled, green eyes of the boy from 10. "Didn't think I'd be the one to kill you, did you, 4? Didn't think I could catch you." He chuckles low in his throat.

An image of my family flashes through my mind. This is the end. I'm not going to see them again. A tear falls from my eyes. Everything I've done has been for naught.

He presses his arm further into my throat, making stars flash before my eyes and my hands claw at him, trying to relieve the pressure and get oxygen back in to my lungs. It doesn't work though. If anything, it causes him to push down harder and chuckle again.

"You thought you were so smart, helping 2 out. Thought you were so clever." He leans in close to my ear. "5 didn't think so."

I was right. Finch did know about Cato, she did have something going on with 10. She's probably hiding out right now, watching him slowly kill me. It wouldn't be something I'd put past her. All of this is probably her plan. Once again, I seem forced to admit that Finnick was right and that Finch was and is too crafty for me.

For the second time in two days, cold steel presses against my throat. This time though, I know there's no hope. I can't reason with this boy. I can't convince him to let me go. "Go on, 4," he whispers. "Scream for him. He's not coming to save you like you did for him."

I know it too. Cato isn't going to swoop in and solve all my problems. I'd be an absolute idiot to think that would ever happen. I have to figure this out myself or end up dead, the sole tally below 10's name.

"Do it!" he yells, the knife breaking through the newly formed scab across my neck and allowing the blood to flow freely, thicker and more deadly than last time.

I feel lightheaded as my hands fall down to my sides in defeat. I've accepted my fate. I am about to die.

"Do-"

"Cato!" I scream, as loudly as I can. "Cato! Help!"

Through the blurriness, I can see 10 smirking. "Again. He'll be here just in time to watch you die." The knife presses just slightly closer.

Then, like an explosion of light, it clicks. He isn't the only one with a knife. He isn't the only one with the opportunity and strength to survive in these games. I can make it. This isn't the end.

My hands scramble into motion. I dig deep into the pocket of my pants before drawing out the knife. As carefully as possible, I move it up into position, my other hand moving so I can push his arm away as soon as I'm done. My hand poises at the ready. "Cato!" I bring my hand down, right into 10's neck, killing him instantly.

The cannon booms before his body hits the ground.

The knife follows him and I too fall to the ground in a heap, my now-empty hands pressing against my throat to stanch the bleeding. It's next to impossible to keep from sobbing as the tears pour down my face, which causes me even more pain.

I was almost killed.

I killed someone.

I'm a monster, no better than the Careers I fought so hard not to become.

"Nicaea." It's relief that fills his voice as he crashes into the copse of trees.

I glare up at him, tall and blonde, sword out and ready to kill anyone who comes near, chest rising and falling quickly as if he ran as fast as possible to get here. I hate him. It's because of him that 10 targeted me, because of him that I was almost murdered, because of him that I am a murderer; a pawn in the Capitol's little game. He's the reason Finch and I can no longer be allies as we were. He's why Zayn died. He's why I will die.

"Nicaea, I thought you were dead." He stoops down next to me, cradling my face and inspecting it for any source of pain. "When I heard the cannon..." Cato shakes his head, his forehead resting against mine as his eyes close.

He seems to catch himself though before he gets any more affectionate. Even as a favorite, he has to act like a Career. His eyes wander down from my face and narrow in concern when he spots my hands cupping my neck. "What did he do to you?" he growls.

"Oh nothing," I snarl sarcastically, moving away from him. "It's not as if everyone wants to slit my throat. It's not as if I'm the idiot helping the Careers."

He ignores me, instead pulling the same roll of gauze as yesterday out of his pocket. He slowly begins bandaging my neck up again, snarling back at me whenever I pull away until I finally still into submission. "I don't want to slit your throat." His hands drop to his knees as he looks at my face. "Come on. I'll take you back to camp and we'll be the Final Two. I'll protect you."

"Like you protected me from the tracker jackers? And from 10 the last two times he's shown up to kill me? Or like how you protected me from 7 just now?" Venom drips from my every word. I stand up and walk a few steps away from him. "I don't think so, Cato."

He looks hurt for a single heartbeat and I feel a bit of guilt wash over me. It's quickly overrun by common sense though. No matter what he thinks, he can't protect me from his pack, from the other tributes. Only I can do that. And in the end it won't matter because he'll just have to kill me himself anyway.

My vision swims. I need to get away.

"You better go before your pack comes looking for you," I whisper, trying to convince him to leave. My voice is too weak though, it lacks conviction.

He growls and moves to stand by me.

I look up at his face. "Just go."

He takes another step closer then closes the distance between us, his arms forming a protective barrier around me as I break down and cry. Any hatred I harbored when I first saw him is gone, washed away by my fear and horror. I can't be alone out here, but I have to be.

After a while, Cato moves a bit away from me. He stares at my face for a minute before sighing and shaking his head. "I'm not going because you told me to. I'm going so you'll be safe." He walks over and picks his sword up from where it lay on the ground. "Don't die on me, Nicaea." His blue eyes bore pleadingly into mine. There's something in them that wasn't there before and I know it's reflected back in mine. He gives a small smile and jogs off.

* * *

The silence is excessively loud, ringing in my ears. I can't be alone with my thoughts, with 10's dead body a few feet away, but I can't bring myself to move. I sit there cross-legged on the floor of the forest, my hands pressed to my ears to drown it out.

A part of me worries that this is the first step into madness; that I'll end up like poor Annie.

Wind whirls around me and I look up to see a Capitol hovercraft floating above me. Clearly, the Gamemakers and the Capitol are done with me sitting here crying. They're going to take his body and my knife if I don't get a move on.

I scramble over and grab it as well as the knife 10 had before scuttling off towards the river. The major threat to my life has been taken out so I can relax and take a little swim. I need to calm down. Sponsors don't like crazy people and crazy people get killed.

The roar of the river is a comfort and I find myself running towards it, completely ignoring the idea of safety. I sneak into the cave hidden under the rapids. There, I strip and place my clothes into a small niche near the mouth, the same place I hid my sponsor gift.

I tuck a knife into the band of my underwear before meandering out.

In the water, I scrub my body roughly with a rock, washing away my guilt and the blood that sprayed my face and coated my neck. I begin placing my kill in a box in my mind, one I will open and deal with once I'm safely home and away from the Capitol and the evil surrounding it.

I lay down on my back, floating downstream until I get near the rapids. Then I climb out and lie down on the beach.

I'm exhausted. I need sleep.

I collapse in the cave, a knife clutched in my hand and the blanket wrapped tightly around me.


	14. Freedom

**Like, holy crap, you guys! 5 reviews and a PM about the last chapter? Ho-ly wow. ****Thank you to So. Not. Your Average. Girl., Frostivy, nimbo, lejohann, and Guest (lol. I love that mental image. :) Thank you!) for reviewing. ****And major thanks to the followers, favoriters, and readers. I know it seems like I say this in all my AN, but you guys are amazing.**

**Also. This chapter... it has me terrified, people. We have hit crunch time. Things are winding down. The end is nearing. Only a couple chapters left. Dear. Lord. I need to go edit and write some more.**

**Anyway, hope you all like this chapter. :)**

**And... since I was a little slow on the draw... I'll put a sneaky peak of the next chapter up on my profile in case you wanna check things out.**

* * *

A soft dinging sound wakes me up.

I blearily rub my eyes and glance around in the dim light of the cave.

Is it possible I've received a sponsor gift?

A soft light goes off in time with the dings and I crawl over to it, feeling the smooth fabric of the parachute and the cool metal of my gift dangling beneath it. I pick it up and walk over to the mouth of the cave. It's daylight now so I look cautiously about before walking slightly out of the cave.

I open the container to find a salve of some sort. The medicine is cool to the touch and, when I dab a bit on my finger it smooths in nicely, not globby as I'd have thought it would. My brows furrow and I rip open the note.

_Apply to neck and arm. Stay strong, cupcake. Love, Finnick_

My eyes well up. The use of my nickname and the ending note comfort me more than Finnick could have realized when he wrote it. Everything's ok. I'm still human. I'm just doing what it takes to survive.

"Thank you," I murmur, my eyes going skyward. "Thank you."

I scuttle back inside the cave and begin gingerly applying the salve to my neck. I can't see it, but it feels awful and I repeatedly bite my lip to keep from whimpering. I hope this medicine will take out any infections I might have. I doubt 10 bothered to keep his knife clean. When I take a look at my arm where 7's tomahawk cut me, my stomach clenches. It looks disgusting, a yellow pus oozing from it. If this doesn't have a disinfectant, I'm done for. Doomed. I apply it graciously, but manage to save about half of the medicine for later. It's impossible to have too much medication handy and I really want to apply another coat later.

After that, I fold up and hide my blanket again. Then I tuck away my knives, one in my pocket and the other hidden in the waistband of my pants. I tug my hair up into a bun and wander out into the sunlight.

My stomach gurgles unpleasantly and my hand moves absently over it, as though that will quell my hunger. I'll have to go raid the Career camp. That means being near Cato again. I nibble my bottom lip. It'll have to do. It's the only option I have.

About halfway to the camp, I can hear the faint rustle of leaves. I twirl around, looking for the source, before my eyes land on Finch. She waves shyly at me and I glare at her, my hand moving to the knife hidden in my pocket. If she wanders too close I'll put it in her, regardless of whether it's time to reveal my hidden talents or not. I'm not taking any more risks than is absolutely necessary when it comes to her.

"I know you hate me," she says cautiously, her eyes not leaving the hand hovering over my knife. She knows I have a weapon now. "I don't blame you. But I know you need food as badly as I do." Her eyes flick up and meet mine. "I can't get it alone. I need someone to play lookout."

I frown. It is difficult to get food alone. Even if 3 isn't much of a physical threat, he still has a weapon, the fact that we have to dance around bombs to get food, and the Careers on his side. "Alright," I say, nibbling my bottom lip, "but you go in the lead and we only take stuff that's in bags."

She nods and hurries off towards the Cornucopia.

I follow slowly, questioning if I've made the right decision. I shove the worry away, I really need food. I could probably catch fish now that I have a knife, but there's no way to cook it after it's been caught and raw fish will make you deathly sick. This is my only option, unless sponsors start feeding me too. But I know that's way too expensive, especially this far in the Games. It was a miracle I got medicine.

Finch and I hunker down in the undergrowth around the Cornucopia, a good six feet of distance between the two of us. We watch as the Careers wander around. Cato and Clove practice tossing knives at a nearby sack while Marvel messes with the poor boy from 3, hitting him with clods of dirt.

I scowl at him, even though I know he can't see me. He's pointlessly cruel. 3 is at their mercy, practically their servant, and he still feels the need to be mean to him.

Suddenly, Marvel shouts and points somewhere in the distance. I look too and see smoke. Someone was stupid enough to light a fire during the day and, not only that, but they were stupid enough to use green wood. No one left alive is that stupid though, I realize. It has to be a trap, but who would do that?

Katniss.

I look over at Finch and she mouths Girl on Fire's name to me. I nod. This is dangerous.

The Careers move out quickly, their bodies loaded down with weapons. Cato shouts something I can't make out to the boy from 3 before he leads the others into the forest.

We wait a heartbeat, then Finch runs out.

My eyes widen as I watch her. This was never how we did things before. I always served as a distraction while she filched food from the tower. Something's gotten into her. She grabs a couple bags of dried fruit and fills up our canteens before dashing back to rest beside me, her chest rising and falling quickly as she hands me the bottles of water.

"What were you thinking?" I hiss.

"I saw an opportunity and I took it," she pants. "I'm sorry about 10. He said you'd been helping Cato. I didn't want to believe him, but, well, it was so obvious that you two liked each other. It made sense."

She takes a sip out of both canteens, showing that she didn't poison the water. She looks desperate. She probably doesn't want to be alone either. It's scary out here no matter how you look at it, especially with the numbers getting so low. I'm kind of surprised the Career Pack has stayed together so long.

I lie to her, the words coming easily to me as I attempt to calm her worries. "No. He wants to kill me and I want to beat him. There's nothing more than that between us." I take back my canteen. "Thank you."

"I know we can't be friends anymore, but we can still be allies. We can still do this. We both need the food and I don't think I can do it alone again."

I nod. It makes sense. "Ok."

An explosion rocks the earth in front of us and we're knocked from our sitting positions so that we're lying flat on our backs, our eyes gazing unbelievingly at the sky. Someone tried to get food after Finch and they failed miserably.

I move into a crouching position, holding my now ringing ears, and glance into the meadow. Sure enough, the pyramid has been blown sky high, the burnt remnants of food scattered about the ground and bits of paper floating slowly down from the sky. Lying in the dirt a few feet away is Katniss Everdeen, a bow clutched tightly in her hands. I was right, this is her scheme. My eyes wander over to the poor boy from 3. He's staring horrified at the destruction before him. He knows he's of no use to the Careers now. He knows he's a dead man. Finch suddenly takes over my vision as she dances like a lunatic amid the ruins, cackling evilly as she throws ruined food into the air.

"We stand a chance!"

No, I think. No, we don't. We were barely surviving on stolen food. Now we have none.

Silently, I slink away. There's no point in the alliance I just reestablished. There's no reason to stick around. I tuck my canteen into my pocket and clutch the bag of fruit tight to my chest. I'm getting out of here before the Careers get back and go on a rampage.

Halfway to the cave, a cannon booms.

3 is dead.

Within the hour, two more cannons go off.

Just like that, we're down to eight tributes left.

"Attention, tributes. Attention." It's Claudius Templesmith. Surely it isn't time for the Feast yet. The Careers can't have gotten that desperate within an hour of the destruction of their food. "The regulations requiring a single victor have been suspended." My brows furrow as I lean closer to the entrance of the cave. "From now on, two Victors, a male and a female, may be crowned so long as they are in an alliance. This is the only announcement. May the odds be ever in your favor."

My eyes widen in shock. Two Victors. Nothing like this has ever happened in the Games before. The allowance for two Victors is cataclysmic. Something terrible must be going on out in Panem if they've allowed such a huge rule change.

After a moment, I hunker back down into my mess of a blanket. This doesn't affect me. I know that Cato's promise of the Final Two is a distant dream now. He only offered it to me before because he knew that Clove, his District Partner, would have to die for him to win. It hadn't mattered then who had been number two, so long as he was number one. Everything has changed now.

I could form an alliance with Marvel though. As scummy and awful as he is, the two of us would stand a better shot than just one of us alone. Especially if I can get my hands on a trident. There's also Thresh, but I doubt he'd go for that, not if his Partner is still alive. Peeta won't abandon Katniss. My only option is Marvel.

Tomorrow, I'll make my proposition.

* * *

Marvel is dead. My brain can't seem to soak this fact in. My one shot for an alliance and an easier victory is gone. I glare up at his smirking face as it shines against the stars. Idiot.

The boy from 3 and the girl from 11 are also dead, their faces glowing in the sky. This means I might be able to form an alliance with Thresh, but the odds still aren't stacked in my favor. He wouldn't join with the Careers when Glimmer was batting her eyelashes at him, what chance could I have?

* * *

It rains for the next two days. A torrential downpour that keeps me huddled inside my cave and has the river above me flowing more rapidly than I could have ever imagined. The time passes slowly, so I sleep for the most part. About halfway through the second day my bag of dried fruit is gone and so is my canteen of water. I'll have to face the cold and the wet tomorrow to hunt for some food and clean water.

In the late evening, the rain stops and Claudius Templesmith's voice echoes throughout the Arena.

"Attention, tributes. Attention. Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia." I roll my eyes. They're attempting to bring the end around sooner, another Blood Bath for the spectators. There's no need for me to bite though. I'll struggle through like I have the last couple days. Claudius makes a tsk-ing noise, as if reading my mind. "This will be no ordinary occasion, each of you needs something desperately and we plan to be generous hosts. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

What could I need? My stomach grumbles, telling me food. I also need water. Medicine would be nice, not that I need it at the moment, my arm and neck are pretty much healed and there's still a little bit left in the container.

This makes me curious. What do I need?

I slowly make my way out of the cave and begin heading towards the Cornucopia in the misty twilight. Whatever it is, I plan on taking it and not letting the others have it.

A plan begins formulating in my mind as I go. I know I don't stand a chance if I try and run for my item with the others. My best shot is to get there before them and take my prize away before they have time to react. The only way to ensure that is to hide inside of the Cornucopia tonight. When the table holding our gifts rises from the ground, I'll dart out and take off with it while the others are left wondering what happened. The only difficult part will be sneaking into the Cornucopia while all the others are lurking around.

As soon as night falls, I realize I needn't have worried. It's black as can be and I can only see a few feet in front of my face, which means the others can't see very well either so I manage to make it there without a hitch.

When I enter the silver frame though, I know I'm not alone. I can hear the faint sound of someone else breathing, but it stops when the soft sound of my foot hitting the metal Cornucopia echoes through the metal structure.

We both hold our breaths before there's a soft "Nicaea?"

It's Finch. Of course she's here too. This whole thing is a very Finch-like idea.

"I guess great minds think alike," I whisper back and there's a soft chuckle echoing from the back.

"I guess so." We sit in silence for a few minutes. "Do you have any food?"

I shake my head before realizing she can't see it. "No. I finished what was left earlier today."

"Oh," she says and I hear her shuffle in the back. "Me neither."

We fall into silence as I settle in near the opening and begin watching for dawn. If I fall asleep here, I might die. I can't put anything past Finch anymore. Not even her inability to kill another human being. It's up to me to stay awake all night and be the first one off in the morning.

Finally, the rays of dawn begin to paint the skyline pink. I crouch at the ready and Finch joins me. As soon as the table rises up, we'll take off and go our separate ways. Hopefully, I won't run into her again. Our peace was only for the night. If I see her again, I'll have to kill her and, despite what she did with 10, I really don't want to do that.

After what feels like hours, I can see the forest surrounding the area. Finch and I creep back a bit to keep in the shadows. We mustn't be seen, otherwise lurking in this metal structure all night will have been for naught.

The table begins rising from the ground, six bags put neatly on top of it. Our district numbers are emblazoned on them so there's no confusion. I can't help but wonder what's in each individual bag. Mine is huge and the one for 12 is microscopic compared to it. The others look to be about the same size as the ones that littered the ground of the Cornucopia that first day.

Finch and I lock eyes and mouth "good luck" to each other before we both dart out of the silver Cornucopia.

My hand grasps the loop of the bag, throwing it over my shoulder as I jump over the still rising table. My feet hit the ground and I'm off, Finch running just behind me. No other tributes come forward though. They must be in shock; no one has ever done anything like this before. I smother a prideful smile as I merge into the safety of the woods.

I don't stop running for a good minute, until I'm sure that no one is around. My curiosity has gotten the better of me. I need to know what I so desperately needed that was so large and heavy.

Slowly, I unzip the rectangular bag, my eyes widening in shock as I take in my gift. It isn't food, water, or medicine as I had predicted.

No, this gift is so much better.

My hands grasp the cool metal and pull it gently from the bag. There's a flash of silver as it catches the early morning light. I smile at it. This is my salvation. The one thing I truly needed- my freedom.

I have been given a trident.

It's now time to play these Games as my mentor and Johanna did. It's time to show my true colors and reveal to the Capitol that they placed their bets on the wrong tributes. Thresh, Cato, Clove, or even Katniss won't win this. I will. The flirty mermaid. The girl who got a 6 in Training.

I smile again. Victory is mine.

I turn back towards the Cornucopia, the trident held proudly in my right hand. I pause for a moment, gathering my courage and catching my breath. Am I really ready for this? It takes a moment, but I accept the fact that, if Finnick has given me a trident, I must be ready for it. I can handle it. The confidence flows through me.

A deep breath and I'm off again, running towards the mayhem that surely awaits me back in the meadow.

A tomahawk flies past my head just as I break out of the undergrowth. My eyes fly up to meet the girl from 7's. She takes in my trident and laughs, her entire body shaking. She really thinks I can't do anything. I scowl at her and take a defensive pose, the trident poised protectively in front of me. This time we'll be on equal footing. This time I'll win and not because the Careers have put a stop to it.

She hunkers down too, her arm going back as she takes aim.

She won't throw it though. After it's gone she'll be weaponless and, failure with a trident or not, the odds will immediately tip out of her favor.

I dive forward at the same time she does, my trident clashing with her weapon as she goes to slice me open.

She jumps away before lunging forward again, a wild shriek coming from her as she brings the tomahawk down towards my head. My eyes widen as I bring the trident up, parrying her blow again. I slice the weapon away, catching her shoulder with the sharp edge.

With a hiss, she falls away, her hand moving to cradle her wounded arm. It's a bitter, sweet revenge. But I can't soak it in. While she's distracted, I thrust the trident through her stomach, roughly pulling it out as blood pours forth.

Her brown eyes are full of agony as she looks up at me, asking for mercy. A quick end.

I close my eyes and thrust again, cutting her throat open.

A cannon booms.

I turn away from her, my mind finally becoming aware of the surrounding area. I see Katniss Everdeen running into the trees, her small backpack grasped in her hand as she runs. I move to go after her, chase her down and take her out.

"Clove! No! Stay with me!" It's Cato. He's in complete agony. Something's wrong. I whirl around to see Thresh disappearing into the tall grass at the other end of the Cornucopia. I run around to the other side towards Cato, clutching my trident tightly in my hand, wincing in disgust as some blood trails down the shaft and covers my hand.

"Clove, please," he begs.

My stomach clenches. It sounds like he's dying.

The cannon booms again, loud and unforgiving.

Cato lets out an agonized scream. Clove's name.

I round the corner to see him kneeling over her, cupping her face and whispering her name over and over as tears flow down his dirty cheeks. He looks so weak and broken. This is not the Career everyone feared. This is the boy from 2, still a child, but forced to grow up before his time. My heart aches at the thought.

"Cato," I whisper as I come nearer to him. "Cato."

He whirls around, sword slashing inches away from my stomach. His eyes widen as he takes me in, recognizes who's standing before him. "Nicaea," he murmurs, "she's gone."

I nod. She is.

"I- she- we-" he struggles with the words before burying his head in his hands. "He killed her."

"I know," I say, kneeling down beside him and rubbing his back comfortingly.

"I'm going to kill him," he says, standing up suddenly and marching towards the tall grass. "For her."

My heart gives another painful throb. I look down at Clove, her head bashed in, brain matter and blood splattered on the grass. He couldn't have saved her. No one could have. I turn away from her body and I run forward, clutching at Cato's arm, trying to drag him back, trying to make him stay. "No, Cato. Not now. You aren't thinking straight. You'll get yourself killed."

He growls at me and throws me off his arm. "Go away, Nicaea."

My mind goes back to that last night in the Capitol, on the rooftop. He'd told me the same thing. I left then, but I won't leave now. He really and truly needs me and, if I'm being completely honest, I need him too. I can't be alone again. I won't make it if I'm left by myself any longer. The last two days have proven that. And I truly don't know if I can win all by myself. "No," I yell, tears streaming down my face before I can stop them. "Cato, don't leave me."

His face contorts in anguish. I've used the same words on him that he used on Clove only minutes before. Words that didn't work.

"Nicaea," he trails off, looking at the tall grass where Thresh is hiding.

I swap the hand holding my trident. Our eyes meet. "Please," I whisper, my hand gently grabbing hold of his. "Don't leave me."

He nods, his eyes closing. I can't help but wonder if he's fighting off tears or trying to drown the monster inside him that wants to kill Thresh right here and now. It's obvious that he and Clove were much closer than I'd thought. Closer than Zayn and I ever dreamed of being. Maybe even closer than I was to Finnick.

"Come on," I say. "The battle's over. Let's get you cleaned up."

He follows me numbly towards the lake.

I hear the hovercraft overhead and pick up speed. I want Cato out of here before they take her body away. I scowl ahead of me; these people have no respect whatsoever. I glance back at Cato to see him watching the hovercraft, an agonized look on his face. My trident clatters to the ground as my hand goes up to cup his cheek, turning his face so he's looking at me. "Hey," I say as he looks down at me, unseeing, "don't think about that. There'll be time after we've won."

No emotion goes over his face. He's struggling to keep the monster in check, the one chomping at the bit to kill Thresh and avenge his partner. The one who probably wants to kill me for standing in his way.

"Or are you retracting that deal now?" I move away from him, my eyes boring into his. If he doesn't want this alliance anymore, I want to walk away right here and now. I don't want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed upon the rocks, a silly fantasy concocted in a teenage girl's mind.

He shakes his head and I feel relief fill my body.

I nod. "Alright." I stoop down and pick up my trident. "Let's go. You're filthy." I brush some dirt from his face. I know I'm overdoing the affection a bit, but one of us needs to act for the cameras and, if I'm completely honest, this small bit of human contact is like a drug to me.

We make it to the lake, but Cato doesn't get in, choosing instead to plop down on the sandy beach. I strip down to my undergarments and get into the water up to my waist before I realize he isn't making any move to follow me. I turn to look at him, my hair whipping around behind me as I stare at him.

"Come on." I hold my hand out to him.

He sighs and slowly strips before wandering into the water with me.

I avert my eyes, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks at the sight of him half-naked. It's inappropriate to ogle him while he's mourning his partner.

I take a handful of sand from the bottom of the lake and begin scrubbing my skin roughly with it, trying to get 7's blood off of my hand and wrist. Once I'm clean and my hair is tied back up on top of my head, I wander out of the water, giving Cato a last, longing look. I try to convey to him that I know how it feels and that it will all be ok, but it doesn't seem to matter to him, he just continues scrubbing his skin.

On the sandy beach, I lay out, letting my skin soak in the sunlight. 7's pained face flashes before my eyes and I sit up stalk-straight, my eyes wandering around me frantically. There's no one around though, it's just me and Cato.

"Are you ok?" he asks, his brow furrowed as he watches me.

I really don't know. "I killed 7."

His eyebrows rise in surprise. "I wondered who that other cannon was for."

I nod, looking down at my blood-free hands. "She attacked me first."

He gives a dark chuckle. "You need to stop doing that. One of these days you aren't going to be able to save yourself. You need to learn to take the offense."

We spend the rest of the day in mock battle. Cato attempts to teach me how to take the offensive and helps me get reaccustomed with my weapon. The benefits work both ways though, he takes his frustration out on me, swinging his sword violently around, the monster peeking out of the shell, but staying in check. Surprisingly, he never hurts me or comes close to it and I learn a lot from our sparring.

We fall asleep in the Cornucopia together in a nest of blankets after the Anthem dies out.


	15. An Absolute Idiot

**I've come to realize that I don't know what the vast majority of you are thinking. Like, are you waiting for Nicci to collapse into a puddle of emotion in the depths of the forest until some random Native American comes and saves her? Do you want Cato to start doing cartwheels and singing whilst proclaiming his undying love for Katniss? Do you want a dance number with the dog mutts?** **Then I remember that those are really stupid ideas... except the dog mutts. I really want a dance number. But still, if you have anything like that that you'd like to see, let me know. :) I'll try to make it happen.**

**So yeah... I've had a lot of sugar and am ridiculously hyper at the moment. In case you couldn't tell.**

**Thank you to Midnight'sRevenge, nimbo, Frostivy, and Guest (Um. No. I'm kind of jumping between book and movie world and that's one thing I won't be taking from the movie. Hang tight and you'll see what happened to Zayn. Thank you for reviewing, if I hadn't already written it, I might have stolen that idea!) for their wonderful thoughts and opinions and words of encouragement. Also, thank you to my darling readers/favoriters/followers.**

**Gosh this is a long AN... here's the part you actually care about:**

* * *

I lean back on the roof of the Cornucopia, watching the surrounding area. It's early morning, the sun still low in the pink sky. A small sigh escapes me as I see dark clouds gathering on the far horizon. It rained last night and I was hoping with everything in me that it wouldn't rain today. That doesn't seem to be the case though. If the Gamemakers aren't careful they're going to end up with a flood on their hands. But maybe that's what they're going for. Maybe they want to drown some of the tributes before the final, epic battle.

I hug myself and press the conch close to my ear, the sound of the waves calming me slightly. I don't like thinking about the end of the Games. What happens if Cato dies and I'm left alone fighting off Thresh? What if the Capitol retracts their deal?

A shudder works its way up my spine. I can't think like that.

I slide down the side of the metal structure and go back inside.

Cato's still asleep. He tossed and turned most of the night, keeping watch for a majority of the evening. I don't want to wake him, but I'm scared here, alone in the open. I want my safe, hidden cave with the rumbling rapids and my warm blanket.

Not that I wasn't warm last night. After a couple hours of his trying to fall asleep, I flopped on top of Cato so he'd hold still and I could get some sleep. His whole body stiffened and, just as I was about to get up, knowing I'd crossed some line, his arms wrapped around me and held me in place.

I smile faintly and look down at him.

It's true. I like the boy from 2. The brute out to kill me in the beginning. I feel safe with him. There's a sense of security, of real protection when he's around.

My stomach grumbles and my hand moves to cover it. We need food. Badly.

I take the length of rope hidden in one of the spare bags and begin weaving it into a net. Before, there'd been no way for me to really hunt fish, but now I have no excuse. It'd be an abomination for the girl from the fishing district not to try and catch some fish when she has a trident in hand.

Casting Cato one last look, I slip out of the Cornucopia with my trident and net.

The sky overhead has turned dark, the gray clouds blotting out every bit of sunlight. Hopefully this'll go quickly.

I cast out the net and begin hunting.

Within the hour, I catch three fish with my net and two with my trident. The smile on my face could light up the Capitol for a week; I feel completely in control for the first time in weeks.

As I'm wading out of the water there's a clap of thunder as the sky breaks loose.

A laugh escapes my lips and I throw my head back, twirling in the ankle deep water as droplets pelt my face. This is my element. This is like home where it sprinkles every day. Four more tributes and I can go back there. My arms wrap around my body, fish gently slapping my back as I stare out across the water.

Home. The word alone fills me with warmth.

"You're going to get sick." I turn to see Cato blearily rubbing his eyes and watching me from the opening of the Cornucopia. His hair is sticking out at odd angles, hardly the polished warrior everyone is used to and more of the teenage boy he really is.

I walk out towards him, my prize slung over my shoulder. "Can you start a fire?" I ask when I'm nearer to him.

He snorts. Of course he can, he's a trained Career. The only one left.

While he goes about lighting the fire, I skin and prepare the fish for us to eat.

An hour later, we're lying down in the Cornucopia listening to the rain pound on the roof, our stomachs full and a fire blazing happily near our feet. As far as time spent in the Arena, this is by far the best day.

"What's it like in 2?" I ask, propping myself up on an elbow to look over at him.

Shadows from the fire flicker across his face as he glances quickly over at me. "It's cold most of the year. We live in the mountains in small villages where we mine and build weapons. Some of us are chosen to train as Peacekeepers. They're the ones that volunteer."

"So you were going to be a Peacekeeper?" I ask, sitting up. I hug my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them as I watch him.

He nods.

"Do you get to pick where you go after your training's done?" Peacekeepers live in all the Districts and make sure we follow the laws set up by the President, but District 2 is the only one that trains them. Maybe, as they gain seniority, they get to decide.

"We can make a request, but that doesn't mean that's where we'll be stationed."

"Where would you have gone?" A part of me hopes he'll say 4. I'd love to show him my beautiful home district with its vast beaches and sunny waves. It's a complete contrast to the cool mountains he's described. What if we hadn't been placed in these Games and had met that way? I close my eyes, willing those thoughts away. It doesn't do to dwell on things that will never be.

"I don't know," he says simply. He stares into the flames for a moment, then finishes, "I'd like to think 4, so I could have met you."

My eyes fly to his face. It's impossible to tell if he's playing for the cameras or if he really means it, but I take it for fact, letting the words warm me and fill me with the small hope that he likes me back and that I'm not just a means of winning sponsors.

"What's it like in 4?"

"It's warm," I say, hugging my knees closer to me. "The sun shines every day and the water's everywhere. We live in little towns along the coast. Every day the ships go out and catch fish for the Districts and every evening the sailors come back singing sea shanties." I smile at the image of home.

"What did you do there?"

"I worked in the Training Center, teaching children how to swim and perform CPR."

His brows furrow. "CPR?"

"Mouth to mouth resuscitation," I say simply. After a moment of him continuing to stare blankly I add, "It's a way of bringing someone back when they take in too much water. You fill the lungs with air and try to get the heart pumping again."

He nods. "So you make-out with a dead body."

I scowl at him. "No, you don't!"

He tucks his arms beneath his head and closes his eyes, laying down on the floor of the Cornucopia. "That's what it sounded like to me."

"You better hope you don't drown, 2," I say, turning to glare at the fire, "because if that's how it goes I won't be reviving you."

I can hear the smirk in his voice as he taunts me, "So you're saying you wouldn't kiss me, little mermaid? Isn't it a little late for that?"

My cheeks redden, but I keep silent, staring intently into the flames.

"Didn't you say something about a mermaid's kiss?" he asks, his breath ghosting over my ear.

My eyes widen as I take note of his proximity. I try to maintain control over my breathing, but it becomes increasingly shallower as he settles in right behind me. His arms wrapping around me, pulling my body flush against his.

"What's your family like?" he whispers, his chin resting on my shoulder, cheek pressed up against my neck where I know he can feel my heart racing.

I smile faintly at the thought of them and can't help but be thankful for the distraction. "There were seven of us," I start.

"Were?" he murmurs.

"My mother died right before the Games started," I say, my throat constricting. I angrily wipe at my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. I don't want Panem to see me sobbing. "She'd been sick for years and it finally became too much for her."

"That's what happened at the pool," he breathes, barely audible over the rain and the crackle of the flames.

I nod, completely mute.

"Tell me about the others," he says, giving me an out.

"My father's a deckhand. He's very quiet and solemn. He and my mother fell in love when they were young and got married as soon as they turned eighteen. They had my older sister not long after."

He gently kisses my neck and I shiver, my eyes slipping closed. "Next," he whispers.

"Castalia's nineteen. She works in the factory."

"What's she like?"

"She's a little shorter than me, blonde with blue eyes. Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, like our mother's. She's sweet, but can get a little bossy." I sigh and stare into the flames. "Then there's me and the twins, Lara and Lilaea-"

"Lilaea?" he asks.

"We're named after water nymphs. My mother loved old stories."

"Water nymphs?"

"They're like mermaids." Cato nods and I continue. "They're eight now and both of them have missing front teeth." I pause. "They look more like me, brown hair and eyes, but with freckles. They're eerily similar and like to finish each other's sentences."

"One more," he says, pressing another kiss to my neck.

I grin widely at the happiness that comes when I think of my youngest sibling. "That would be Keenan, my baby brother. He's three. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Castalia and I raised him for the most part since Mother was sick when she had him. Sometimes I feel like he's as much mine as he is my parents'." I rub my eyes again as the cloud up.

"You miss them, don't you?"

I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from crying.

His arms wrap tighter around me, pulling me closer. "I'll get you home to them. I promise."

Slowly, I turn around to face him, my legs resting on either side of him. "What about your family? What are they like?"

"There are my two parents and my two older brothers."

I scowl at him when he doesn't say any more. "Come on. You have to say more than that."

"My brothers are both Peacekeepers so I don't see them often. They're both married and living in other Districts."

"Do they have kids?"

"Titus does. Penelope's five now."

"What about your parents?"

"My father's a retired Peacekeeper so they live in a house on the square of our village."

I roll my eyes. "Getting information out of you is like teaching a fish to climb trees."

He bursts out laughing.

"What?"

"That is the most ridiculous saying ever." He wipes at his eyes and clutches his side. "People from 4 are weird."

I glower at him and give him a light shove. "People from 2 are worse."

Before I know it, I'm on my back with Cato looming over me, his arms blocking my sight to the right and left and his face inches from mine. "Take it back, 4." There's a playful glint in his eyes.

"Never," I proclaim, attempting to give him another shove.

He begins tickling my sides as I screech, begging him to stop.

"Come on, Nicci. Take it back."

A smile illuminates my face. He called me Nicci. Are we really that familiar now that he feels comfortable giving me a nickname? "Ok, ok. You're just as bad, not worse."

He grins down at me, his fingers stilling. "That's not taking it back."

"It's an amendment. A compromise."

He shakes his head, blonde hair falling into his eyes. "Compromise isn't an option in 2."

"It's a way of life in 4. You'll get used to it."

His body falls down beside me, fingers gently entwining with mine. "I hope I get to."

* * *

The next day, I wake to the boom of a cannon.

I turn to look at Cato, but find myself alone in the Cornucopia. A deep sense of fear and foreboding fill my body. Cato is gone and a cannon has gone off. My ally may be dead. The boy I've developed feelings for could be gone.

I knew he wanted to avenge Clove. I knew he wanted revenge on Thresh, but I'd thought I'd convinced him to take me with him in case he needed help. I should have known better.

Quickly, I throw on my boots and jacket. In one of the many backpacks lying around, I stuff a sleeping bag, a flint, a canteen of water, the net I made yesterday, and a few knives. If Cato is dead I'll have to leave this structure and go back to my cave. I can't return there empty handed.

The trident feels heavier than usual when I pick it up. Ignoring this, I take off towards the tall grass. I have to find him, if for no other reason than to say goodbye and tell him that it wasn't an act for me. I didn't do what I did for the sake of sponsors. I did it because I wanted him to be safe. Because I care about him.

I break through the grass, howling his name. My trident moves roughly from side to side so I can see ahead of me. "Cato!" The further into the field I get, the more desperate I sound. Tears are streaming down my face as I go, blinding me and making me weaker, an easier target.

A body breaks through the foliage and I move my hand back, poised to throw the trident at whoever's come towards me.

"Whoa!" It's Cato, bloodied and bruised, his hands held up to ward me off. "It's just me, little mermaid, put the trident down."

Slowly, my hand lowers. "What were you thinking?" I hiss at him. "I thought we agreed to attack him later today."

"This was something I had to do alone." He begins limping past me, back to camp. There's a long, jagged cut that slides from his shoulder down his back that's oozing blood, a few scratches on his arms, and a nasty cut on his leg.

I let out a howl of frustration and kick a clod of dirt away from me. "What if he'd killed you, Cato? Then what?"

He smirks at me over his shoulder. "He didn't, so don't worry about it."

When we get back to camp, there's a container of medicine on it with the number 2 emblazoned on the parachute. Clearly the sponsors approved of his move, even if I don't.

I hand him the note attached and begin treating the cut on his shoulder. He might have won, but it's a costly victory if you ask me. Unnecessarily so.

He winces slightly when I put the first of the medicine on, but keeps silent as I finish doctoring him up. He knows if he shows how much it hurts the sponsors will think less of him.

"You're an idiot," I tell him once I'm done. "An absolute idiot."

I don't even look at him as I walk out of the Cornucopia. I just keep walking until I hit the edge of the lake. There, I wash what's left of the medicine off and look out over the edge of the glittering water.

We're that much closer to the end. Three more deaths and I can go home to my family. I can move past this horror and my life can begin. I'll live in the Victor's Circle next to Finnick with the rest of my family. A few years later, I'll get married and have kids. I'll watch Castalia get married, see Keenan and Lara and Lilaea grow up. Life will be perfect.

"It's going to rain soon."

I look up to see Cato, an apologetic look on his face. I turn and walk back to our shelter.

We sit in silence for most of the day, the pounding rain the only noise. I skulk in the corner, glaring daggers at him whenever he wanders too close. He won't be forgiven that easily. He keeps near the fire after a while, poking it with his sword to keep the flames up.

Around mid-afternoon, another parachute slides into the room, the number 4 on it. Cato dutifully hands it to me, our fingers brushing for a moment before I snatch my hand away.

Inside the container is some thick, hearty soup. Steam rises up with the smell of it and my stomach gurgles in response. I screw on the lid and hold it out to Cato. I know it's meant for him. The last time I got food it was meant for him. He needs it more than I do anyway, since he's on the mend.

His head shakes, eyeing the 4 on the parachute.

I roll my eyes. "Take it. You need it."

When he shakes his head again, I walk over and drop the canteen into his lap. "Eat. It'll help you get better sooner."

I plop down next to him and open my note.

_Forgive and forget. You didn't want to be a part of what happened. –F_

My eyes close as my head rests against the cool metal of the Cornucopia. I hadn't thought about how awful the battle must have been for Cato to come back so banged up. I'd only thought about how betrayed and scared I felt.

"I'm glad you're ok," I whisper, snuggling closer to him.

One of his arms wraps around my shoulders, the other hands me the cup of warm soup. "Me too," he says, kissing the top of my head.

Slowly, I eat a few bites of soup. It's absolutely amazing. I think there's chicken in it and all kinds of vegetables. The nutrients to be gotten from this are much higher than what could have been scrounged in the Arena in a week.

I hold a spoonful up to Cato. He couldn't have eaten enough. Our eyes meet and he slowly takes a bite. I bite my lip to hold back a giggle.

The rest of the meal goes that way. I take a bite then he gets a bite. After we're done I apply more medicine to his shoulder and settle down near the fire.

"We'll have to start hunting for the others tomorrow."

I shake my head. "You need to let that rest for a day. Capitol medicine works miracles, but it needs time like everything else. The day after. We'll end it all then."

He nods.

"No sneaking off like last time though," I say, glaring daggers at him.

"I promise," he says, smirking at me.

* * *

Finch's face illuminates the night sky.

My throat tightens as I fight back tears. We weren't allies anymore, but she was the closest thing I had to a friend here. There was a part of myself that I saw in her. Her desire to win was just as great as my own and her intellect was something to be admired.

"Two left," Cato says.

I nod, my eyes closing as I look away from her golden-brown eyes.

"You two were close in Training. Are you ok?"

I nod again. "Yeah.

"Were you allies?"

"We were," I say with a small smile. "We stole food from you until it got blown up."

A low growl. "What?"

I smirk up at him. "We stole food from your precious pyramid."

"How? 3 said no one would be able to take food from it after he set up the mines." He looks pissed. The mines must have been his idea, either that or 3 promised protection of their food in exchange for his life and Cato now feels like he's been played.

"Finch and I watched him set it up." I turn and go back into our shelter, nestling down in a mess of blankets, ready to go to sleep. "It was easy after that."

He follows me in. He's shaking his head in disbelief and pacing back and forth, like a caged animal.

My hand reaches up to stifle a yawn. "You should come to bed too. You need the sleep."

"In a minute," he grumbles.

With a shrug, I turn over, tugging the blanket up over my shoulder. Cato isn't stupid. He knows staying up all night will just make him weaker tomorrow. There's no reason for me to worry about him.


	16. Let Him Go

**I can't believe we've made it to this point. I really, truly can't. Wow.**

**Also can't believe this story's part of a Community now. Like holy crap.**

**I'm not going to delay this very long so here goes- thank you to Guest (I love you too! :P I'm updating, no worries! Thank you.), arabrabM, pretty-pleasee, mangesboy01, and Guest... the second one (Mmm. You'll see what happens. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I like Cato/Nicci stuff, it's fun writing cutesy stuff sometimes.) for reviewing. Thank you for all of the favorites/follows/time you spent reading this.**

**Please, please, please leave a comment. I'd love to know what you think. :)**

* * *

Cato shakes me awake in the morning. It's just after dawn, I notice as I rub the sleep out of my eyes. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted an early start today. He's ready to be done. He's ready to end the other tributes and win these Games.

"There's a gift for you," he says, gesturing to a shining parcel a few feet away. "We'll head out after we eat."

I nod and sleepily walk over to the package.

Instead of opening the package first, I opt for the note, taking it and gently unfolding it to see Finnick's scrawling handwriting spread across it.

_Poison for your trident. Be careful, cupcake. Good luck. Love, F_

I open the lid and inside is a thick, green liquid. It oozes slowly around when I tilt the container left and right. I wonder if it's poisonous on contact or if it has to pierce the skin to take effect. I'm not willing to test it out though. With any luck, I'll find out later.

"What is it?" Cato asks.

"Poison," I mumble, not taking my eyes off the bright green stuff. This must have cost more money than my entire family needs to live for a year, maybe even the entire village. I snap the lid closed and move to grab my trident to go fishing for our breakfast, but Cato stops me.

"Don't bother. I've got food." He holds out some jerky and dried fruit.

"Where'd you get this?"

"Feast. It was in our pack. We needed food."

"Why weren't we eating this before?" I ask, my hands resting on my hips. I went through the trouble of making a net and fishing in the rain so we wouldn't starve and he had food out here all along.

"We didn't need it before. We didn't have to save energy. Now eat it, Nicaea. We need to get moving."

He's pacing. Back and forth across the inside of the Cornucopia. Between bites of food, he picks up a random weapon and swings it around like he's debating on which ones to take, then he sets it down for a minute and eats some more before repeating the process. There's an odd look to his eyes, an almost maniacal one. It makes my blood run cold to watch him. He's terrifying and I'm so thankful that he's on my side and not out for my blood.

As soon as I'm done with my breakfast, he's ready to move.

"Let's see if we can make this fit you," he says, pulling something out of another backpack. It shimmers in the half-light, almost like metal. My brows furrow as he holds it up against my body and shakes his head. "I knew you were small, but I still hoped it might work somehow."

I look down and realize that it's body armor. A warmth fills my chest at the thought that he cares enough to try and put me in a too-big suit to keep me safe.

"You'll have to stay behind me when we find the bitch. I'm not going to let you get shot if I can help it," he says while he changes into the suit and puts his clothes on over it. He looks no different than before, which is ideal. Katniss and Peeta won't suspect a thing.

Using one of the blankets, we apply the poison to our main weapons- my trident and his sword. We then load ourselves down with a handful of knives each. I pocket the rest of the poison and stuff some dried fruit and medicine in my other pocket.

Once I'm done, I look up to Cato. He's leading this show and I'll follow him to the end.

He smiles down at me, a hand moving up to cup my cheek. "Let's go, babe." His hand goes down and takes mine, leading me out into the sunlight.

We spend most of the morning on the lookout for the other two. We start by the lake and branch out between there and the stream, looking up in trees and around fallen logs. It's all for nothing though.

A little after mid-morning, we sit down and eat some more of the dry fruit and jerky while we drink some water. It's quiet and there's still no sign of them.

Around noon, the sky goes dark.

My eyes flash up to Cato and I know they're laden with fear. Even though the odds appear to be in our favor, nervousness clenches my gut. The end is about to begin.

Then there's a growl behind us.

Slowly, I turn to see a dog muttation. It's small and lean, red with large, golden brown eyes. Finch's eyes, I realize with a shock. Then I see the collar on its neck, the large number 5 dangling from it. An even deeper horror oozes through my body, filling every bone, every fiber. The hair's on the back of my neck begin to rise.

The mutt is Finch.

Its teeth are bared and it's snarling at us. The mutt takes one step forward before I take off, my feet running in the opposite direction before my mind can even catch up with it.

"Run for the Cornucopia!" Cato yells, the sound of his feet pounding against the ground beside me.

Another mutt appears on my left and I scream, moving away so quickly that I almost collide with Cato. Thankfully, he's quick on his feet and moves away, reappearing soon on my other side, standing between me and the animal.

There are more snarls from behind us, but I don't dare turn back to look. If I do, I might trip or run into a tree and die. My heart is pounding in my chest and my brain is screaming at me to move faster, but I can't. I'm running as fast as I can and I'm just barely able to keep up with Cato who I'm sure isn't running as quickly as he can.

The sound of the mutts gets a little further behind us and I breathe a small sigh of relief before realization hits me again. If those mutts are gone, something worse must be nearby. That means there's another creature waiting to kill us or 12 is close.

My hands tightens on the silver trident.

The answer appears before us soon. Katniss and Peeta are wandering around, Katniss with a bow in her hands. Subtly, Cato moves in front of me, taking an arrow to his chest when 12 takes aim and lets loose. It bounces off and I see Katniss' eyes narrow as she moves to take aim again, this time at me.

Loud baying from the mutts starts up, startling the duo from 12 as we run past. Now we're all running, struggling to get to the safety at the top of the Cornucopia.

My lungs are on fire and I worry about climbing on top of the structure. I haven't done a ton of exercising lately, what if I can't haul myself up? What if my legs collapse beneath me?

These thoughts urge me on and I find Cato and I pulling just a little further ahead of the other couple. We break through the undergrowth and into the meadow surrounding the silver Cornucopia. Safety is in sight.

My left hand reaches up to begin pulling myself on top when I feel myself being thrown up there. I turn to offer Cato a hand, but see him already clambering up beside me. I let out a few pants, trying to catch my breath and slow my heart before our final battle begins.

Before I can, I'm hauled up onto my feet. The trident falls from my hands as they instinctively go up to pull the knife away from my throat. "Let him go, 2, or I'll kill her," Girl on Fire hisses, the knife pressing into the soft skin at my neck.

My eyes fly up to see what she's talking about. Cato has Peeta in a similar headlock, one of Clove's old knives pressed against his throat. Peeta's as white as a sheet and, when I look down, I can see that his leg is a glorified mess of gnarled flesh and blood. One of the dogs must have caught him while he was trying to climb up here. He's still bleeding a lot and, if things don't come to an end soon, he could bleed out and die before victory comes.

Cato's eyes are narrowed as he looks at the girl behind me. He doesn't say anything though and doesn't move the knife away from Peeta's neck.

Below us, the dogs are barking and snarling. Their bodies collide with the sides of the Cornucopia as they attempt to jump up here to join us. Thankfully, it appears they can't, which means that there's one less thing to worry about.

My tongue flashes out and licks my lips. We're stuck in a stalemate.

Then Peeta's hand moves forward. He's holding something out to me. Our eyes meet and there's a pleading tone in his.

My brows furrow, but I reach out to take it. Our fingers brush as a few items fall into my hand. I tighten my fingers protectively around whatever it is and bring it close to my chest where Katniss won't be able to see it. I look down.

Nightlock.

He can't possibly mean that we should kill ourselves. That the only way to move things forward is for us to commit suicide so our partners can fight it out to the end. That's not how I want things to end.

I look up at his face again, now several feet away from me. Apparently Cato didn't like us passing secrets.

I search Peeta's face for an explanation, for confirmation. With a bit of horror, I realize it is what he wants. It's written so plainly on his face that that's what he wants, a real shot for Katniss to win. He truly loves this girl. If I really care for Cato, shouldn't I give him that shot as well? Wouldn't his triumph be more victorious if he didn't have to share the honor? Wouldn't he be bringing back more glory for his district if he was the sole Victor?

I nod once at Peeta. Alright. I'm in.

"What did he give you?" Katniss urgently hisses in my ear.

I ignore her, my eyes meeting Cato's for the first time. "Tell my family I love them and that I'm sorry," I say, tears pricking my eyes. "Tell them there wasn't another way. Tell my Team that I'm so thankful for everything they did for me." I pause, closing my eyes and catching part of Peeta's speech. He's telling her how much he loves her and how much she means to him, the moment he knew he'd do anything for her. It's unbearably heart wrenching.

My eyes open again to see Cato. He's mouthing one word at me over and over. _No._

Tears slide down my cheeks and a small smile lights up my face as I find the right words. "I love you, Cato. I didn't realize it until now, but I do. I love you."

He shakes his head right before I turn back to Peeta. He nods and we both show the world the berries.

"Nightlock. No, Peeta!" Katniss screeches, the knife digging into my throat as she presses forward as though to stop him and my feet dig in to stop her.

"Here's to my love," I murmur, quoting the book I finished the day these Games began as I bring the berries up to my mouth.

I don't swallow them though, instead tucking them under my tongue and pretending to chew and swallow them. Maybe I don't love Cato as much as Peeta loves Katniss, but I still don't see the point in suicide for the person you love. Wouldn't it be a torturous burden to know that the person you loved killed themselves for you?

Peeta begins choking a few seconds after he swallows so I imitate him, making my eyes roll back in my head before going limp.

A cannon never goes off though. Maybe Peeta's faking it too.

Katniss drops me as she screeches Peeta's name. If he is faking, he's done an excellent job.

I collide with the hard metal of the Cornucopia as Katniss steps over me, ready to try and kill Cato with her knife, get her revenge. She's muttering curses under her breath as she stalks forward.

I don't have much time.

My fingers scrabble forward as subtly as I can manage, searching for my poisoned trident. When they find it, I don't even stop to think. My body moves into a crouching position, throwing the trident through Katniss Everdeen before she even reaches Peeta's dead body on the floor.

She collapses next to him, spluttering up blood. Her eyes are wide as she searches around for an explanation. When I stand, they immediately land on me, steely gray filling with horror. A hand reaches up, clutching at something on her jacket as spasms wrack her body. "Prim… for… sister," she spits out.

I look closer and see a mockingjay pendant. It must be her token. "I'll give it to her," I say, taking it from her.

"Please," she whispers, her face contorting in pain as her body convulses. I know what she wants, the same thing as the girl from 7.

I remove the trident from her side and slide it quickly through her neck, ending her then and there.

The cannon booms twice.

My eyes lock with Cato's. We did it. We made it. We're Victors.

The bloody trident clatters to the ground as I throw myself at him, our lips crashing together in our first kiss.

We're safe. Our families are safe.

We're going to live.

My forehead rests against his as our lips part.

"I present to you, the winners of the Seventy-fourth Annual Hunger Games," Claudius Templesmith booms out joyously, "Cato Hadley and Nicaea Cosgrove!"

Tears stream down my face. I did it. I'm going home. I'm going to see my father, Castalia, the twins, Keenan, Finnick, Mags, everyone. This tragedy is finally coming to a close.

Cato's eyes survey the area around us, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tugs me closer to his side. He's finally become the Victor he's dreamed of being from childhood. He's bringing pride and honor back to his district.

We both are.


	17. Breathe

**Good morning, dears. :) I hope you all are doing well.**

**To start off with, I want to throw out there that some of these chapters aren't going to be as long as they have been. This one's nearly 4,000 words and the next one doesn't even reach 3,000, but it's mostly for climax and keeping content together. On the shorter chapters I'll post a sneak peek of the next one, just to be fair because they tend to end in cliffhangers. Mmm... I think that's all for now on that front... except that I'm super excited to start writing the 75th Games now! If only it wasn't so far away...**

**Thank you to pretty-pleasee, SummerJane'10, mangesboy01, HungerFabrevans, and Guest (My sick mind loved the idea of using the nightlock berries like that. And it was a chapter of opposites in that sense (Cato protecting Nic and the berries failing Peeta and Katniss). Thank you for reviewing!) for the wonderful reviews. As well as thanks for the favorites and follows.**

**Also. Thank you all for reading. This story wouldn't have gotten anywhere without you guys. :)**

* * *

Beeping. That's the only noise I can make out.

It's a soft, gentle beep and it goes off about every three seconds.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

It's incredibly annoying really.

Slowly, I begin to open my eyes, but immediately close them. There's white everywhere around me. It's blinding. I let out a groan and go to rub my eyes.

I can't. My wrists won't move.

My eyes fly open now as panic takes over, they soak in every detail they can about the current state of my body. I'm in a white gown with my arms, legs, waist, and chest tied down to the bed, making it impossible to move. What is going on?

"Nicci, cupcake, calm down!" It's Finnick.

I look at him pleadingly. Why am I here? What's going on?

"You and Cato won the Games," he says softly. "You're in the infirmary now. They've been giving you medicine to calm you down. You keep having panic attacks." He runs a hand tiredly over his face. This seems so rehearsed. "Breathe," he adds when he notices I'm not.

I do. Deep, slow, even breaths.

"How many times have you told me this?" I ask when my breathing seems close to normal. My voice is rough, scratchy, and my mouth is dry.

"This is about the fourth time for me. Mags has told you once. Galatea twice."

He looks worn out. There are purple bags under his bloodshot eyes. His hair is an even worse mess than normal; his clothes are wrinkled with a few unidentifiable stains on them. His cheeks look sunk in, his skin a dull color rather than the glowing bronze it usually is. He's been worrying about something and I know it's been me.

I nod and think back, trying to visualize what he's said. I remember winning, the mutts, Katniss and Peeta, the hovercraft, screaming when a needle was jabbed into my neck and Cato was taken away. Then my eyes widen as another thought occurs to me. Where's my partner?

The beeping speeds up. "Where's Cato? Finnick, is he alright?"

Finnick's on his feet and by my side in an instant, clutching my tied-down hand. "He's fine, cupcake. He was released the day before yesterday. Calm down. It's alright. Breathe, sweetie." His hand begins smoothing my hair in a soothing motion. "Come on, Nicci. He's alright. You can't see him until the Interviews, but I promise he's alright. I saw him yesterday."

There's a commotion outside and yelling. The beeping speeds up even more.

"Breathe, Nicci, otherwise they'll put you under again."

I begin taking deep breaths. I don't remember being put under, but it doesn't sound pleasant.

"Slower."

I follow his instructions, taking deep, slow breaths.

"That's it, honey," he says as the beeping slows back down. "There we go." He sighs and slumps back into a metal chair I hadn't noticed before. "We've all been worried about you, Nicci. You aren't allowed to leave here until you can keep yourself calm. That was a step in the right direct-"

He's cut off by a swooshing noise. Galatea marches into the room in flowing, red robes. "Nicaea!" she exclaims. "You're alright!" Her arms wrap around me and the familiar smell of mint envelops me. "You had us all worried." Her eyes hold concern as she takes me in. "Why is she still tied down? Doctor!"

A tired-looking man in a white overcoat with red hair walks into the room. "Yes, Galatea?" he sighs.

"Untie her. She's all better, see?" She gestures dramatically at me. "I think we should take her upstairs. A familiar environment will help her recovery."

The two begin arguing about my release, debating back and forth like madmen. The doctor doesn't seem very fond of Galatea ordering him around and she isn't fond of him undermining her. They're both used to a staff of underlings doing whatever they wish. Opposition is a foreign thing for them.

"I'll keep an eye on her. She'll be alright, doctor," Finnick says, stepping between the two. There's a note of finality in his voice and the doctor splutters out an "okay" before sending a nurse in to deal with me.

"She'll need to take these three times a day," she says. "Two of them. They'll help keep her from having the panic attacks." She unties the straps holding me down and I gently rub my wrists, wincing at the purple bruises there.

Finnick nods. "I'll make sure she takes them."

"We'll send an Avox at the appropriate times. She'll have a couple days to adjust then the Interviews will need to take place. President Snow insisted on that." The nurse shoots me a glare, like it's my fault I'm incapable of getting better. "After that it'll be up to you to make sure she takes her medication. Good day, Mr. Odair." She flounces out of the room, leaving me alone with Finnick and Galatea.

He comes over and hugs me tight to his chest. "You have to try to be good," he whispers. "You have to keep it under control or they'll treat you like Annie." He gently tilts my head back to look me in the eyes. "Please don't do that to me. I won't be able to handle it if I lose you both." He presses my face back against his chest and kisses the top of my head. "Up we go, cupcake!"

I let out a small squeal as he picks me up bridal style, my arms scrambling to grab around his neck.

Finnick marches off out of the infirmary and into an elevator. Galatea follows us and glares daggers at anyone who comes too close. Inside the elevator, she jabs the button for the fourth floor and we begin the ascent in silence.

The doors open with a soft ding and we walk into the familiar blue living room. My eyes soak it all in- the squashy, brown couches and the turquoise walls with the large, blue painting, the huge windows opened wide to let in a view of the glowing Capitol. There's an emptiness to the room though that didn't exist before. The life of it has been sucked out.

"Mags and Ophelia are sleeping," Galatea says, her heels clicking loudly on the wooden floor as she goes into the kitchen for a glass of wine. "Leto, Hera, and Gerard are out at some party. You should have seen how proud they were of you." She smiles softly at me from the doorway.

Finnick walks over to the couch and gently sets me down. "Do you want to change?"

I glance down at my body. All I have on is a thin nightgown, the back open and exposed to the elements. I nod. Pants and a shirt would be nice.

Finnick offers me a hand. "I'll help you walk down there."

"I'll change her, Finnick," Tea calls. "You can order some supper in the meantime."

I clutch at Finnick's arm as I try to stay upright. My legs are so weak from the days without use. His arm slides easily under my arms, supporting me as he always did. I smile gratefully up at him. "How long was I out?"

"Three days."

My eyes widen. "Three days?" I ask incredulously.

"Well," Finnick says, leading me into my bedroom, "you weren't out for all of it. Like I said, you woke up a few times, had a panic attack, and they sedated you." He sets me down on the bed. "I'll send Tea in. She'll be here in a second, don't worry."

He walks out and I lay back on the bed with a sigh. I feel fine, maybe a little weak, but fine, and I can't understand why they're treating me like I'm made of glass. There's no way I could have been that bad the last few days. There's just no way.

"Alright, off with that wretched thing," Galatea says when she bursts into the room, a half-empty glass of red wine in hand. She heads straight for the closet, hitting buttons to make more suitable clothes appear.

I pull the "thing" over my head and drop it carelessly on the ground. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and I hug myself, rubbing my arms to try and get some warmth in them. A moment later, Galatea drops a pile of clothes down beside me. She makes a face.

"Let's wash you up first. They haven't done that since your surgery that first day."

"Surgery?" My brows furrow. I didn't need surgery. I didn't lose a limb or get my stomach cut open.

"Yes," she mumbles, leading me into the bathroom and helping place me into the tub, "they did a general reconstruction. Hiding any scars you had, fixing up that nasty cut 7 gave you, making your throat look normal again." She gives my cheek a gentle rub as the tub fills up, the gesture reminds me of my mother.

I can't help it when a tear rolls down my cheek.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I promise. You're as beautiful as you ever were. We didn't let them do anything bad to you."

I nod before taking a deep breath and sinking beneath the water. When I resurface, Galatea gives my hair a quick wash before handing me a soapy sponge.

"Clean up. I'll be back in a moment with your clothes."

Her heels click out of the room, echoing off of the marble walls.

I take the sponge and begin scrubbing at my skin. Galatea is right. The scar tissue on my shoulder is gone, as smooth as a baby's. They even got rid of scars from my childhood- the one on my knee from cliffdiving, one on my left hand from trying to bait a hook and failing, and a couple others I don't remember getting but have been a part of me for as long as I can remember. My skin's also more tan, but oddly lacking in tan lines. It would appear that a fake coppery glow isn't bad in Galatea's book. Maybe the color makes me look healthier, I reason, tilting my body back into the water to get the rest of the soap off.

As soon as my head's up, Galatea's drying my face off. "Finnick has food." She smiles at me, helping me out and over to the dryer. For once, she leaves my hair down, letting it kink up in little waves like it naturally does. Then she pulls me into clean clothes- a loose silk shirt with matching pants and a short-sleeved robe that she cinches around my waist. She lets out a tsk-ing noise. "You're so much skinnier, Nicci. We'll have to fix that."

Her dark hand grasps mine and begins leading me into the other room, but my legs give out on me halfway through my room. I land hard on my tailbone with a wince. Galatea looks horrified, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a tiny "o".

"I'm so sorry," she says, crouching beside me and patting me down for any bruises. "Are you alright?"

I nod, waving away her worry. "Just help me walk next time," I say with a small smile.

She helps me back up and we walk off again, this time with her carrying half of my weight.

We eat in the living room on the squashy couches with the curtains pulled back to allow us a view of the brightly lit Capitol.

The small table that used to hold decorations has been transformed. It's now laden down with soups and breads that we take turns trying. There are chicken and beef and pork based ones, but my favorite has bits of fish and potatoes in it. It reminds me of one we have at home, but much thinner.

My heart aches at the thought of home. "How much longer do we have to stay here?" I ask, pulling my legs up to my chest and pulling my blanket up over my shoulders. "I'm ready to go home."

Finnick wraps an arm around me and I nestle into his side, stealing some warmth from him. "Just a few more days. The day after tomorrow will be the Viewing, Crowning, and the final Interview. I'm not sure how it'll work with two Victors, but, thankfully, we don't have to worry about that."

"Is he really alive still?" I whisper.

I feel Finnick's head bob up and down. "He is. He's on the second floor with his team. You'll see him at the Viewing." There's a pause then, "I don't know why you picked him. He's the single gloomiest person in all of Panem."

The sound of my laughter fills the room.

"What?" Finnick asks after a moment. "He. Is. Awful."

This time Galatea joins me, her throaty chuckle echoing off the walls.

"I didn't pick him. You did," I say, poking his chest. I deepen my voice, "Best to win over the worst of them." His face falls and he glares at me. "Monsters survive in these Games." Another burst of giggles takes over me and I roll over on the couch to hide how red my face is getting.

"That is the absolute worst idea ever, Finnick!" comes a trilling voice. "I'd have to be a complete imbecile to think that was a good idea!"

I look over at Finnick to see him waving his arms around and fluttering his eyelashes. We meet eyes and burst into another fit of laughter.

After a while, an Avox comes in with the next dosage of my medicine. Finnick grabs it and hands me the glass of water and a single pill. I look up at him. I'm supposed to take two. My brow quirks and he winks at me.

Knowing better than to question him, I down the pill and hand back the glass.

Within five minutes, I'm asleep.

* * *

"Cato!" I scream, my body upright in the bed, sweat pouring off of me. My heart is pounding in my ears and I can't get enough air into my lungs. I thrash, throwing the covers off. I need to get outside. I need air. "Cato!" He'll know what to do. He'll help me.

There's a flailing next to me. "Nicci," a sleepy voice says. A hand attempts to rub my back. "Breathe. It's ok. Breathe."

I try to, but the air won't fill my lungs. I'm going to die.

Something gets pressed against my mouth. I thrash out violently, my arm striking the person in the face. There's a muffled "ow" before a rough "Breathe, damnit!"

So I do. I try and fill my lungs as full as I can then let the air out.

"That's it," the voice says. Someone rubs my back. "That's it, Nicci. It's alright."

In time, my heart slows down and my breathing becomes more even. The object is removed from my mouth and I see it's a simple bag. I turn to look at the person beside me, it's Finnick. I can just make out his outline in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," I murmur.

"It's alright," he says, falling back on the bed beside me. "That's what mentors are for."

I pounce on him, hugging him tight around the neck. "Thank you."

His white teeth shine at me in the darkness and he pulls me closer to him.

* * *

In the morning, I wake without any problems. No screaming. No thrashing. No breathing issues. Just Finnick hogging all the covers.

I roll my eyes and climb in the shower, loving the feel of the water pounding against my body and the heat taking the tenseness out of my muscles. My head tilts back and the water cascades down, covering my face. I smile softly. Two more days and I can be engulfed in seawater, feel the tug of the ocean current around me. It will be beautiful.

I finish quickly and go off into the living room where Ophelia is watching television.

When she hears me come in, her head whips around sending her green curls flying. Her face lights up and she runs towards me. "Nicci!" The smell of burnt sugar comes with her as her arms engulf me. "You made it!" she squeals, jumping up and down.

There's a shuffle and I glance over my shoulder to see sweet, old Mags smiling at us.

I break away from Ophelia and give Mags a hug. "Thank you," I whisper. "I couldn't have made it without you and Finnick."

Mags gives a little shrug. "It was mostly Finnick, honey. He cares about you more than he wants to admit." She gives a shaky chuckle. "You should have seen him when Cato and that child from 10 had you by the throat. He nearly threw something through the television screen."

I give her another tight hug, inhaling the salty ocean scent that clings to her skin. "Nevertheless, thank you."

She nods and shuffles off to sit on the couch and knit while she watches television with Ophelia who's now prattling on in the background about how exciting the Games were.

I go into the kitchen and fix up a plate with biscuits and gravy as per Galatea's request last night. I'm too skinny, she said. I need to put some weight back on so my dress will fit better. I don't want to think about what that dress entails though.

The Interviews are likely to be a mess. It's the first time there's ever been two Victors and none of us know how they plan on letting things go down. Finnick suspects we'll be interviewed together, as a couple, since that's how we won, but he says there's also the possibility of us being interviewed separately. Either way, I'm supposed to be the same mermaid as before and extremely grateful.

I collapse on the couch next to Ophelia, my body sinking into the soft cushions. There's a commotion by the elevator and a green and blue blob land on the couch beside me moments later. Hera and Leto's faces smile sweetly at me.

"Is it true?" Hera asks.

My brows furrow. "Is what true?"

"I told you it wasn't," Leto says. "I told you Nicci wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't do what? What is going on?" I quickly look at the faces around me. Ophelia's eyes are glued on me and Gerard smiles vaguely at me before taking a seat next to a now-sleeping Mags. It can't be too bad, whatever it is, if Gerard isn't too worked up over it. Then again… he is pretty calm about everything. He did let the girls dress him up in a horrendous pirate costume and drag him around town.

"You and Cato!" Hera crows and I wince, holding my now ringing ear.

"What about us?" I mumble.

"You know," Hera says, waggling her brows.

My eyes flash to the others again, but I gain nothing. Ophelia and Leto are looking at me curiously, obviously wanting to know the answer as well. "I really don't know."

Hera rolls her eyes and begins talking slowly, as if to a child, "Are you and Cato together now?"

I look down at my hands. I don't know what we are. In the Arena it was easy to believe that we were a couple, not just two people trying their best to survive a murder contest. It was easy to feel a connection, to sleep snuggled up with each other, to laugh and tease, to tell about our lives back home. Even kissing him at the end was so easy and natural. That doesn't mean he feels the same though.

"I knew it!" Hera trills. "That's why they cut off from the two of you after he started tickling you! You did it! I'm so envious!" Her fists fly up over her head in triumph and she arches her back, as her fists pump the air happily. Sadly, she cranes too far over and falls with a crash to the floor.

Leto, Ophelia, and I all lean forward to ask if she's ok, but Gerard beats all three of us, crouching beside her. She waves him off though, sitting up and eyeing me, waiting for an answer.

I shrug and lean back against the couch, soaking in the new information. All of Panem thinks I slept with Cato that night in the Cornucopia. Everyone thinks we had sex. The world thinks we're an item.

My eyes drift closed. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to act. Why can't life be simple anymore?

I lift my hand to wipe a piece of hair out of my face, but find it's shaking too bad. My breathing becomes short and I can feel my heart speeding up. I let out a choked gasp as my lungs struggle for air. My eyes widen and drift around the room for help, hands flying to my throat.

"Nicci," Leto says softly, her hand gently resting on my lower arm.

With my eyes, I try to tell her that I need help, that I can't breathe.

"Get Finnick!" she orders Hera. Her eyes reflect mine in every way- wide and filled with fear.

There's a crash and the sound of loud footsteps making their way towards us. I feel like I'm about to lose consciousness as I continue struggling for a breath. I'm going to die. This is the end. I struggled through the Hunger Games only to die in my apartment less than a week later.

The same bag as the night before is pressed over my mouth and Finnick begins whispering in my ear. "Nicci. Baby. Breathe. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going to let anything bad happen. Honey. Breathe. Cupcake, please."

I watch as the bag inflates and deflates. Full and then empty. In and out. Up and down. I'm breathing. It's deep, slow breaths. I'm not dying. I'm going to be ok. Everything is going to be okay.


	18. Best Hunger Games Ever

**Hello... so, this is a shorter chapter and I may be a while updating. I'm starting my first summer class on Monday and I'm working on re-configuring a few things I've written because I don't like how they work with the plot. It shouldn't take me more than a week though. :)**

**Thank you to Frostivy, pretty-pleasee, mangesboy01, Guest (I would like to respectfully disagree. At the moment, she may seem a bit Sue-ish, I'll admit, but I feel it really takes a character like that to make it through the Hunger Games alive. This may just be because I know where I plan on taking the story and what I plan on having Nic do (and I just tested her and she scored a 15 on the Universal Mary Sue Litmus Test). Thank you for pointing that out though and helping keep me in check. I really do appreciate it.), the other Guest (Thank you. :) I think Finnick would realize the gravity of the situation ("Ten times as long" and all that jazz) and try his best to keep his tributes from slipping after they won.), HungerFabrevans for reviewing.**

* * *

I don't know how I'm going to get through tonight. I haven't even the slightest idea.

The doctors from the Infirmary showed up earlier and pumped me full of medicine. They said it was to help keep me calm and from having a panic attack on stage. They say the attacks have been better since I've moved upstairs, but they're still far too frequent. The lead doctor thinks the loss of my mother combined with the stress of the Games are what's triggered them, but he insists they'll pass in time as I adjust to things. I'm not so sure.

But the medicine and the doctor's reassurances don't mean I'm going to survive tonight. I don't know what to do or say. I hug myself as I stare at the floor. Last time seems so easy in hindsight.

"Watch this, cupcake!"

I look up to see Finnick balancing a sugar cube on the end of his freckled nose. I giggle when I see his cross-eyed face. He chomps the cube out of the air and smiles a crooked smile my way. Then he throws another cube up in the air, catching it easily in his mouth before winking at me.

"You wish you could do that," he says proudly before sidling over next to me. "You ready?"

I shake my head. "No. I don't know what's going to happen."

His arm goes around my bare shoulders. "You and Cato are going to go out there and be your adorable selves. Well, you will be. He'll grunt and point at things. Probably scratch himself," he adds after a moment. "Anyway, just stick with the mermaid. Don't tell them about the panic attacks. And be grateful." He leans in close under the pretense of a hug, "I told you things are bad. You can't fan the flames."

A quick nod. Finnick talked with me yesterday about some uprisings in the Districts that were spurred by the Games. They were Katniss' doing, but I still have to tread lightly if I want things to go smoothly. If not, we'll all be in big trouble with President Snow. Not surprisingly, that knowledge sent me into an attack and Finnick's been careful not to bring it up since.

"You'll be great no matter what," he says with an encouraging smile. "I mean, look at you. You're almost as beautiful as me! It won't matter what you say."

He twirls me around to look at a nearby mirror while I stifle another giggle.

He's right. I do look beautiful. Tonight I'm in a form-fitting green dress that flows down to the ground once it reaches my hips. It's a soft, silk fabric with a see-through train and a v-cut neckline. Along the sides, silver stitching forms laurel leaves that wrap up in a single vine over my shoulders to form straps. My hair is twisted into a mass of curls on the back of my head; Galatea says they're going for simple this time so that the crown will stand out later. I can't find anything simple about it.

"Almost time!" Galatea trills, marching past us to peek out from behind the curtain. She's opted out of her traditional robes tonight, wearing what she referred to as a "Grecian-style" dress. It's weird to see her without the huge, billowing sleeves full of goodies. The tighter fitting dress makes her look so much smaller, less intimidating.

"Watch this, Tea!" Finnick says, throwing and catching another sugar cube. He waggles his eyebrows at her, expecting praise, but she just cocks an eyebrow at him before turning restlessly back to the stage.

I can't help but smile. This is almost what things were like before the Games.

Music begins playing and my heart stops. It's time.

Finnick gives my shoulders a quick squeeze, guiding me gently to the curtain.

"Good luck," he and Galatea whisper as a stagehand waves me out.

After a moment of blindness, I realize that this is the same stage as before. The ring of chairs is gone now though. Only Caesar's chair and a matching loveseat remain in the center. We will be in the limelight all night long. There will be no relief.

I look to my right and see Cato. He's smiling and waving at the cheering crowd. He's the perfect Victor, handsome and composed in his white suit. He looks angelic. Then he turns to look at me and it feels like the world gets smaller as all my attention is focused on him. He walks towards me, but I can't get my legs to work. He holds out a hand for me when he's nearly halfway across the stage and mobility flows through my body.

I run to him, my body crashing into his as it did on the Cornucopia a week ago. A feeling of security envelopes me as he holds me. Our eyes meet and he smiles down at me. His hand cups my cheek. "Hey, little mermaid," his voice sounds deeper than normal and I suppress a shiver. I hadn't realized before now how badly I'd wanted to hear him speak, how badly I'd wanted him to hold me.

"Hey," I whisper.

He leans down and kisses me, his lips soft and warm against mine. He presses my body closer to his, a hand moving behind my head to cradle it and hold me in place.

I could stay here forever.

"That is quite the greeting, isn't it, ladies and gentlemen?" a voice says, breaking us out of our momentary haven.

My eyes widen in horror and Cato lets out a low chuckle as we move apart. I'd completely forgotten we were on live television. A blush colors my cheeks as Cato's hand rests on my hip and guides me over to where Caesar is waiting for us.

With a smile, the blue man gestures to the loveseat and we settle in. He cranes forward, elbows resting on his knees. He's eager to get started, ready to have all of his and the Capitol's questions answered.

Cato's arm drapes over the back of our seat, one leg crossed carelessly over his knee like he did during his interview. A glance at the screen in front of us shows how comfortable and relaxed he is and how petrified I look, my back stalk straight as I sit on the edge of the seat. I form a small smile and lean into his side, tugging my mermaid persona in place. It won't do to not hold up my end of the bargain.

"Now you two," Caesar says, "had my heart racing the entire time, let me tell you." He gently places a hand over his heart and fans himself while looking at the assembled audience.

The crowd of Capitol citizens let out a burst of cheers in response.

Cato and I smile at each other and the cheers get louder.

"I think the question we all want to know the answer to," Caesar says. There's a hush across the crowd, eager grins on their faces. "When did you know? When did you realize that you loved each other?"

He isn't wasting any time. Going in straight for the kill.

I bite my tongue, trying to come up with an answer. I'm not sure when the exact moment was. There were so many moments when I felt a connection between us, but I know that the moment I was positively sure, that moment at the very end, isn't what the people of the Capitol want to hear. They want to know that I loved him all along. That I wasn't just teasing Caesar the last time we sat on this stage and I whispered Cato's name to him.

"I'd always felt drawn to her, but when 10 attacked her and she was screaming for me to help her. I thought I'd lost her," Cato pauses and I look up at him. He stares back at me, his eyes glowing with intensity. "I knew then that I couldn't live if I didn't have her."

My vision blurs and Cato pulls me in close while I compose myself.

When I turn back to face Caesar, I see him dabbing at his eyes too. "What about you, Nicaea?"

I smile up at Cato and snuggle in closer to him. "I knew that morning when I woke up and he wasn't there." My eyes slide over to Caesar who's nodding emphatically. "It was awful. I guess you have to nearly lose something before you realize how important it is to you."

Cato gives my shoulder a squeeze, pulling me in closer, and kisses the top of my head.

The Capitol citizens let out a series of "aww"s and I swear I hear sniffles. Caesar smiles at us and moves on with the interview, discussing what we're looking forward to back home and what our plans are for the future.

"I want to live on the beach so I can go swimming every day," I say with a smile. I send Caesar a wink and add "It'd also be nice if I could have ice cream all the time."

The crowd starts laughing loudly, clearly remembering my previous interview and I grin at them impishly. That statement wasn't a total act. I'd gorged on ice cream last night with the Team to make up for the lack of it in the Arena and been sick from it this morning.

"I'd like to travel some," Cato says when it all dies down and Caesar looks to him for an answer. "It'd be nice to see my brothers and there's this girl in 4 I'd like to see."

I feel a blush rising in my cheeks as the interview goes on.

* * *

The lights go down forming a twilight atmosphere around us and allowing the screens to glow bright all around us. The crowd grows silent as they show the Cornucopia.

My face pops up, looking over at Cato who winks and mouths "two" at me. We see close-ups of Clove, Thresh, Finch, the girl from 11, Katniss, and Peeta. The gong goes off and I'm running towards the forest while Cato heads straight into the thick of the fight, killing the other tributes with whatever's readily available.

A silver tomahawk soars through the air, thrown by the girl from 7. Just as I'm admiring her aim, the camera flips to her target. I let out a strangled gasp as I see it go through Zayn's head, a sob wracking my body as he hits the dirt, gray eyes empty. Unlike my time in the Arena, I don't fight back the tears that stream down my face. Zayn died because of the girl from 7. As I wipe my tears away, I realize with a sick twist in my stomach that I'm glad I killed her, glad I got a little revenge for Zayn. I understand why Cato needed to kill Thresh now.

When I manage to look back up at the screen, it's a shot of Finch and I hunkered down in the brush, waiting for the Careers to leave. We see the two of us raiding food from the pyramid and laughing before hurrying away.

Next is Cato killing the small girl from 8, then me discovering the caves the following day with Finch. There are shots of Katniss wandering around and Thresh hiding in the grass; Finch wandering off and collecting berries, then it cuts to me hiding from the Careers the night of the tracker jackers.

The crowd is silent as the scene plays out, the insects descending, Glimmer dying, Peeta's betrayal, and Katniss' escape.

A low growl rumbles from Cato's chest when he sees 10 emerge from the trees and threaten me. His hand tightens on my shoulders pulling me closer to him as he glares at the screen in front of him. It loosens a bit when he sees himself attempting to fight him off, but he doesn't quite let go of me.

When it shows the two of us in the cave and me treating his wounds, I can feel him grimace and I suppress a giggle. Then my cheeks go red when it shows me snuggling up with him a couple nights later. I lower my face to hide it from the cameras that I know are still recording me.

I don't look up until I hear myself gasp and the splash of water. The boy from 10 is glaring at me from the screen and I feel my blood run cold all over again, my body going stiff. Cato rubs my arm and presses me close for a hug. I look up to see him giving me a hard look that clearly says I should have told him I saw 10.

I turn back to the screen and halfway watch the film for a while without really seeing anything. In all honesty, I don't want to watch any more of this. I want to curl up in a ball and sleep until well after the Victory Tour.

"Cato!"

His fingers dig deep into my shoulder and I wince. There will be bruises there later. He doesn't let go though, growling as he watches 10 threaten to kill me and him running towards me, but being too far away.

"Cato!"

The cannon booms and the camera zeroes in on Cato's face, a look of complete horror and despair before being replaced with absolute rage. I look up at the real Cato with a furrowed brow, amazed that he was so upset then. His eyes meet mine, angry at the recap, then confused for a moment before letting go of my arm and grimacing at the white marks his fingers left on my skin. He kisses my forehead and pulls me even closer so I'm practically sitting in his lap, whispering a soft apology in my ear.

I space out again as the film rolls on. I hear Rue, the girl from 11, screaming Katniss' name and the boom of cannon as she and Marvel die. I don't look though, not for the rest of the film. I don't want to see how in love Katniss and Peeta were, how pitiful Finch was towards the end as she pled with Thresh to be her ally, but most of all I don't want to watch Cato and Thresh fight it out in the tall grass. I hug my body close as their yelling and the clash of metal echoes throughout the square. I look up to see Cato smiling as the cannon booms again. He's proud of what he did.

A good half-hour later the Viewing is over. The screens show Cato and I as we are now, dressed and polished to Capitol perfection, our faces shining in the light, a fake smile plastered on my face and Cato looking pleased with the whole thing.

Caesar turns to us, a huge smile dominating his face. "That was, arguably, the best Hunger Games ever."

* * *

**Let me just say... you people are cruel. Having Cato kill Zayn? It would have taken half the Peacekeepers in Panem to keep Nic from slaughtering him and then where would we be? That was just something he said to scare her in the beginning. How much sense would it make for Cato to kill part of his alliance before he had to?**

**Anyway, I think that's all I have for you at the moment. Don't forget the sneak-peek on my profile... unless you like waiting. :)**

**And thank you for reading!**


	19. Home

**Hello, hello, hello, my darlings. :) I hope you had a wonderful week, mine was especially hectic with the start of my online summer class, which I will _not _be doing again. Ever. Due to this class, we'll be going back to weekly posts for the time being instead of those wonderful bi-weekly posts I had going back in May. This makes me sad. And I'm so sorry it has to be this way, but this class is extremely time-consuming.**

**Thank you for the follows and favorites and the private messages. Special thanks to mangesboy01, pretty-pleasee, JustEmily0989, and Guest (Thank you! Cato'll be... scarce for a bit, but there'll be some Rebellion talk in the next couple chapters.) for their lovely reviews.**

**And thank you all for putting up with my random posting style!**

* * *

My head rests on Finnick's shoulder as the train thunders down the tracks. The glowing television is showing the Interview and Crowning again. I'm absolutely exhausted, but I stay up, wanting to watch and hear it happen again.

Caesar smiles at the two of us. Cato has just finished describing our time together in the Cornucopia. He said it was one of the best moments in the Arena. The one time he felt that he was able to be himself.

I'm practically glowing, the happiness oozing out from within me. My starry eyes are glued on Cato. It's kind of sickening, but Finnick is pleased with it and the citizens are just eating it up.

"We know how Nicaea feels," Caesar says. "Her declaration at the end of the Games was heartwrenching," the crowd shouts up their agreement and I smile playfully at them, "but do you love her back?"

Both on and off screen I lean in closer, gauging his reaction. It's flawless though. He lets out a chuckle and looks down at me, smiling his lopsided grin. "Of course I do."

On screen, I smile up at him. The Capitol people applaud and sob. Caesar wipes a tear from his eye, murmuring "I knew it".

Off screen, hours later, I'm scowling as my mind does laps around his words. He didn't actually say them. Like me, he was at least partially acting. Or maybe he just didn't want to say it for the first time in front of all of Panem. I don't know.

I look at Finnick, hoping for an answer. "Does he-"

"I don't know." His mouth is tight and he stares at the screen, completely avoiding my gaze. "I don't know, Nic."

I tuck my knees under my chin and continue watching; trying to get the pieces of the puzzle to fit together, but I can't fit a square peg in a round hole. It isn't going to work and I let out a frustrated sigh, kicking at a pillow on the end of the couch.

"Don't worry about it, cupcake. If he doesn't love you now, he will soon enough." Finnick pauses, his hand resting on my head. Our eyes meet. "Do you love him?"

My hand roughly rubs my face. "I do." My eyes flick to the screen; President Snow is placing the silvery, Mother of Pearl crown made of laurel leaves on my head. It matches my dress perfectly. I smile politely at the President before he moves on and I grin out at the crowd. "I… I did in that moment anyway. I think I still do. It's hard to tell where the acting ended and the truth began." I look up at Finnick. "I lost myself in there. Before I can figure that out, I need to figure out who I am now."

Finnick nods and kisses the top of my head. "You sound like Mags, but I'm proud of you. Don't rush into anything just because it's what the Capitol wants."

I stifle a yawn and snuggle back into his side. My lids begin to flutter shut as I watch the television. We're raising our hands over our heads in Victory, my tiny hand clasped in his larger one. Cato smiles down at me and I beam up at him. We won. Together.

"Up we go," Finnick says, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me from the room as the screen goes black. "You need your sleep. You've got a big appearance in 2 in the morning and another one in 4 the next day."

As my eyes close, I nod and snuggle into his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

* * *

I kick viciously out at the body bouncing at the foot of my bed. I'm not getting up yet. I'm not. I'm going to sleep until I absolutely have to get up. Yesterday was an excessively long and stressful day with Interviews and such, I need my rest. It's way too early for this.

"Up, up, cupcake," Finnick sings, giving the bed another jostle.

I grumble at him.

The blankets are ripped from the bed, the cold hitting me like a ton of bricks. "It's a beautiful day!" he sings and I know he has his arms spread wide, the blanket dangling like a banner from one hand. "The District 2 people are smiling, the sun is shining, I'm here."

I snicker before burying my face under the pillow.

He flops down next to me. "Please."

"No," I moan.

"Please."

"No."

"I love you."

"Then let me sleep."

"It's because I love you that I'm getting you up."

I glare at him with one eye from beneath my pillow, trying to communicate to him how very little I want to get out of this bed. He doesn't seem to care though. Even though he's barely awake himself, an absolute mess with his hair uncombed and no shirt on.

"That is not love." I snuggle back in, inhaling the sweet lavender scent of the sheets.

A moment later, I'm over Finnick's shoulder and he's hauling me into the bathroom. "Up," he says, plopping me down on the cool tile floor a moment later.

I glare at him while I brush my teeth and he smiles back at me, his tall frame leaned up against the door as he watches. I spit and take a drink of the cool water from the tap. "You have to leave so I can go to the bathroom," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I don't have to. It's a favor I'm doing just for you," he says, walking back into the bedroom as I shut the door behind him with a loud click.

I grab the pill jar on the sink, yanking it open and popping two pills in my mouth before quickly taking a drink and downing them. Taking the medicine has become a habit over the last few days, one that I don't entirely regret. The pills keep the panic attacks and the nightmares at bay.

When I emerge a moment later, Finnick grabs my hand and begins dragging me out of the room. I hastily grab at my robe, but can't reach it before he has me out the door and halfway down the hall. I scowl at the back of his head. I guess I'll eat breakfast in my nightgown.

Finnick twirls me into a chair and a moment later places a bowl of oatmeal in front of me. "Galatea says it'll help you gain weight quicker," he calls from behind me as he fixes his own plate. "I think you'd be better off with meat though." A large plate of bacon and sausage appears next to the oatmeal. "And pancakes are always a good idea." Another plate appears opposite the meats, laden with pancakes and syrup.

I stare in awe at the mountains of food. Surely he doesn't expect me to eat all of this. There's no way I could, even if I spent days sitting here digging through it.

"Eat up," Finnick says as he plops down across from me with a plate of his own filled with pancakes and fruit.

I eat a bite of the oatmeal and fight back a smile. It's good, flavored with honey and strawberries. I'm not terribly hungry though, I haven't been since I got out of the Arena, so I just kind of pick at it all until Finnick steals my plate of pancakes. I don't see much point in pretending any longer if he's just going to steal it anyway.

Softly, I begin humming, my eyes wandering over to watch the tree line as it flies by in a blur of green and blue.

"I hate that song."

I glance over at Finnick. "Why?"

"It's impossible," he says through a mouth full of pancakes, a bit of syrup dripping onto his chest.

I quirk an eyebrow. "How so?"

"She wants him to do the impossible." He swallows, clears his throat, and takes on a high-pitched tone. "Make me a shirt, but don't show any needlework. Then find me some land between a couple bodies of water and when you're done with that you can plow and plant it with a piece of corn!"

I glare at him. "Who said it was a she?"

He falters for a moment. "Those are womanly demands."

My laughter fills the room. "Because women are always asking men to make them clothes."

He smiles impishly at me before stuffing another piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Besides," I say with a smile, "I think he already completed the tasks."

The door of the room opens and I turn to see Brutus and Cato ambling in, already dressed for the day. I smile faintly at them before turning to look at Finnick again.

"Why do you say that?" His brows are furrowed and he's leaning over the table to look at me skeptically.

I pick up a cup and fill it with warm tea before taking a small sip and locking eyes with Finnick's sea-green ones. "In order to be her true love, she says you have to complete the tasks. At the end, she says that he once was a true love of hers, insinuating that he'd already done as she asked."

"What are you talking about?" Cato asks as he slumps into the chair next to me, his arm carelessly falling over the back of mine. I shiver as his hand touches the bare skin on my shoulders. I look down at my lap to hide the blush taking over my face, which only worsens when I realize how short my gown seems. I tug at the hem of it, trying to get it closer to my knees but it stays stubbornly around the middle of my thighs. Next time we go to the Capitol I want more control over what goes into my wardrobe.

"The practicality of a local folk song," Finnick replies. "Nicaea here believes that the tasks set before the male lead are plausible while I hold to the belief that they are in fact false and merely a satirical take on the demands women place on their lovers."

Brutus grumbles something about District 4 people before digging into a plate comprised completely of bacon and sausage.

With a wrinkle of my nose, I ignore him and grin at Finnick, eager to continue the debate. "If he truly loved her, he'd find a way to do it."

"If she truly loved him, she wouldn't demand the impossible."

"I just told you it isn't impossible."

"Then how would you do it?"

"I wouldn't," I say simply, leaning back in my chair, arms crossing over my chest.

He rolls his eyes. "No, you'd be the one demanding it."

Now I roll my eyes. "I wouldn't demand that. Why would I need a shirt without stitches?"

"But you'd want the land?"

"I already have a new house, don't I?" I say, batting my lashes at him.

"And the field?"

"I've never been a fan of corn."

Finnick laughs and shakes his head.

"I can't find Nicaea!" Ophelia cries as she bursts into the room.

We all turn to see her with her hair still in rollers and a silk dressing gown cinched tight around her waist. Somewhat surprisingly, she has her make-up on, a myriad of reds and blues that clash terribly over her eyelids, colors that I know are supposed to represent Cato and I, Districts 2 and 4. Despite that, it's clear that she's worried, her big eyes watery as they flit around the room.

"Oh," she says when she sees me, her body sagging a bit in relief, "there you are. You need to get dressed. Come along."

I look over at Finnick who nods in her direction, telling me to hurry along after her. With a slight grimace, I stand up, more than aware of the skin I'm showing, especially when Finnick gives a soft, teasing whistle and I catch Cato staring. Ophelia lets out a "tsk" of disapproval as I scurry over to her and shakes her head as she ushers me out the door.

* * *

I run quickly down the hall, the silk robe flying behind me like a sort of cape. I burst into the dining car and run toward Finnick, a look of panic written all over my face. "Call her off, Finnick," I hiss, cowering behind him, my eyes glued to the door. "She's trying to kill me! She's evil!"

Without looking at his face, I know he's rolling his eyes. "She's not going to hurt you, cupcake." He throws a sugar cube in the air and catches it effortlessly. "She's just helping you get ready."

"Have you seen what she's trying to shove me-" I duck below the table right before she enters the room, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. I hold my breath, trying not to make a sound as I crawl so that I'm completely hidden except for my face, which shoots Finnick sad, pouty faces.

"Have you seen Nicaea? She needs to get this corset on so we can finish getting her ready."

I look pleadingly up at Finnick. He sighs. "She doesn't need a corset, Ophelia. She still hasn't regained all the weight she lost in the Arena."

"Galatea packed it, Finnick, she needs to wear it."

"I know what the dress looks like, it doesn't need a corset. Nicci doesn't need a corset." He leans forward in the chair. "And I know Galatea agrees with me."

Ophelia's pouting, I can sense it, and it's confirmed when I hear her stomp off. I leap out from under the table, clinging to Finnick by the neck. "You are the best!" I crow happily. "That thing looked wretched."

Finnick shrugs and pops another sugar cube into his mouth. "You do need to get dressed though."

"Says the shirtless one," I scoff.

"It's so no one will pay attention to you in your flabby, uncorseted body."

I roll my eyes and walk out of the room, the sound of footsteps trailing behind me. I turn to see Cato and smile up at him while he scowls down at me, grabbing my hand and leading me down the hall past the sleeping cars and into the very last one.

It's the same as it was the last time I was here, with Zayn over a month ago. The walls are made of glass and are cracked slightly open, a low-seated couch circles the walls and a soft, thick carpet covers the floor. The wind whistles through the air and my hair flies out around me. I look at the green landscape and the high mountains all around, smiling faintly. They're majestic and beautiful. It's hard to believe that someplace this magical produces killers like the Careers.

"We need to get something straight."

"What's that?" Almost reluctantly, I turn to watch him.

He collapses onto one of the couches and looks up at me, his blue eyes cold. "You and me."

"Ok," I murmur, sitting next to him.

He stares straight ahead at the mountain. "Brutus isn't happy about having two Victors."

I nod. It hadn't been hard to figure out that Brutus wasn't happy about any of this. The glares he shot me last night hadn't left any room for argument in my mind. Not that I'd expected any better, I knew it was a huge honor to win the Games in 2 and that having two Victors would take away from that.

"He also thinks that's the only reason you acted the way you did in the Arena."

My eyes go wide. He can't believe that. I helped him before we knew there could be two winners, I poured my heart out to him, I told him I loved him. He's the one who's been acting, the one who played me for the cameras. One look at his face tells me that he agrees with Brutus though. "It wasn't an act, Cato," I murmur. "Maybe during Training, but not after the tracker jackers. I knew that I liked you after that."

His face is cold and emotionless as he watches me.

"It wasn't. If you want to believe him, then fine. Do it." I get up to my feet and send him one final glare. "It isn't true though."

"What about you and Odair?" he says, his voice eerily calm.

"What about us?" I hiss, my hands clenching into fists at my sides as I struggle to remain calm.

"It doesn't seem like you're acting with him."

"He is my friend," I spit out at him. "He's been there for me every step of the way. I'd like to think that means I can joke around with him."

"I'm just saying-"

"I don't care what you're saying or what you're thinking. You're wrong. I care about you Cato and I care about Finnick, but not in the same way and if you can't see that-"

Before I know it, Cato's got me in his arms, his lips crashing against mine. They're rough and demanding, his hand moves behind my head, holding me in place, and his arm presses me close against him. Eventually my eyes close and I kiss him back, loving the warmth that spreads through my body with every kiss. He pulls back after a minute and I lazily blink my eyes open to see him smirking down at me. "I know, babe."

He gives the top of my head a quick kiss before guiding me back to my room where Ophelia begins interrogating me about what happened. Apparently, she still likes the idea of him being dipped in chocolate.

* * *

I twirl happily in front of the mirror, watching as the lacy white fabric puffs out around me then settles down around my thighs. Galatea always knows what to do. She even told Ophelia to keep my make-up to a minimum and my hair in the waves it naturally falls into. I don't look like a person from the Capitol anymore, I look like me.

"Time to go, time to go," Ophelia says, urging me into the matching white heels.

I step into them and follow her down the hall, tuning out the majority of her babbling. It's been the same nonsense since we left the Capitol- she's so happy we won, Cato's so gorgeous, we're adorable together, when will there be babies. Ugh.

Finnick grins at me when I enter the room and sends me a wink before nodding in Cato's direction. I turn to see him staring at the landscape in a pair of khaki pants and a blue button-up shirt that makes his eyes stand out. I smile faintly at him, my hands grasping each other behind my back as I walk cautiously towards him.

"Hey," I say softly when I'm about a foot away from him.

He smiles down at me then looks out the window again.

I lean against the wall beside him and take in the group in the room. Finnick and Brutus are sitting in chairs facing each other and are quietly discussing something, their voices low and rumbling. Mags is knitting and Enobaria is scowling at all of us at random. In the far corner, glasses of what looks like champagne in hand, stand Ophelia and the District 2 escort. They're laughing and smiling, Ophelia trying her best to flirt with the lanky male.

"Are you excited to be back home?" I ask softly, not wanting to draw attention to the two of us.

His eyes flick to me for only a heartbeat. "Yeah."

I nibble my bottom lip and look down at my feet. "Quite the conversationalist."

He gives a soft chuckle.

I turn to stare at the mountain towering over us. It's impossible not to feel small so near to it. At the top there's still a bit of snow, an eternal icecap that no amount of sunshine can destroy. The snow up there probably predates Panem.

A hand touches my waist and Cato's breath ghosts over my ear. My eyes close automatically and I breathe in the smell of him, metallic and earthy at the same time. "Have you ever seen a mountain before?"

I shake my head.

"I've climbed that one." His hand moves further around my waist, resting on my stomach and pulling me closer to him. "I'll take you up there someday."

I look up at him, but his eyes are still glued on the mountain.

"I shouldn't have grabbed you like that earlier."

"No. You shouldn't have," I say simply, my eyes going back to the landscape.

The train begins to slow and Cato kisses the top of my head, a sudden warm and comforting feeling spreading through my body. "I won't do it again."

"Good. Thank you." I turn and wrap my arms around his waist, snuggling into him for what will probably be the last time until the Victory Tour. "I'll miss you," I whisper.

He brushes some hair out of my face and leans down, our lips brushing. It's soft and gentle, a complete turnaround from earlier in the last car. I lean into it, my hands moving to encircle his neck when the sounds of a screaming crowd pull me away.

I blink up at him then out towards the crowd. The train stopped and the doors opened while I was distracted. I smile at the crowd before stepping a bit away. This is his homecoming. He's bringing back honor for his district. I won't take the limelight away from him.

"I'll call you," he whispers before stepping forward onto the platform. The sunlight hits his broad back. Then he pulls something from his pocket, holding it high as he whoops for joy. The object catches the light, bright gold against the blue sky, and I realize it's his crown.

The crowd gets even louder as he holds it up, Enobaria and Brutus moving to stand behind him. I can't see his face, but I know he's smirking. Pride just radiates from him. This is the moment he's dreamed of and fought so hard for. The moment he could return home a Victor. The moment he truly became District 2's golden boy.

I turn to see Finnick holding his sides as he laughs in his chair. I'm just about to scold him when an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me out of the train. A small squeak of surprise escapes my lips before I see Cato smirking down at me. He pulls me close to his chest and kisses me again, bending forward so I have to clutch at him to make sure I won't fall.

A few whistles emanate from the crowd and I know I'm blushing.

He pulls away, his forehead resting against mine. "I love you, babe."

Then Enobaria and Brutus swoop in and begin leading him into the crowd. He sends me one more wink before he goes back to thrusting his golden crown into the air, whoops and hollers accompanying it every time.

"He's definitely a keeper," Finnick says, fighting down another round of laughter.

I nod, my mind numb with the shock of what he just said. He is.

* * *

The relief I feel when I step off of the train and into my family's arms is indescribable. It's been over a month since I've seen them and so much has happened to us all that it's hard for my mind to grasp the fact that none of them have really changed.

Keenan is clinging to my leg like my last day here. Lara and Lilaea are still missing their front teeth and are decked out in similar outfits with matching braids. Castalia still has her sweet smile that causes her eyes to crinkle. Nothing about them is any different than when I left.

Our arms all wrap around one another as we cry freely. All the stress and worry that was built up over the past few weeks is being released right here in this moment at the train station. It doesn't even matter that this is being broadcast to the whole nation. I have my family back and that's the only thing that counts.

I flash them all a watery smile as tears roll down my cheeks. I missed them so much.

Crouching down, I hug Keenan tight to my chest before picking him up to be enveloped in another group hug.

Even though I know better, my eyes search the surrounding crowd for my mother. "She's gone, Nicci," Castalia reminds me in a soft whisper so that the kids can't hear. "And Dad's gone off to live with Uncle Seamus for the time being. He wasn't himself after she died."

I nod, wiping the tears from my face. A small part of me suspected that Dad wouldn't be here and it makes sense that he went to live with our uncle to get away from things. Seamus lives alone in a lighthouse a couple villages over. There, Dad would have peace and quiet and all the time in the world to cope with losing a wife and potentially a daughter. No matter how strong he seemed to me, I know he had a breaking point and losing my mother, the love of his life, was it.

Finnick comes up behind me, his hand pushing against my back, herding me towards the bottom of the platform at the station, leading me away from the turmoil of the Games and towards the comforts of home.

I wave as I go, a smile flashed at the random faces cheering me on.

Yes. Against all odds, I am home.


	20. Cupcakes, Cupcake

**Heeere we go. This is another shorter chapter, but there's a pretty decent amount of information jammed into it. And I'll post a sneak-peek for those of you interested. There might also be a poll put up. I'm debating on some things and would appreciate your input. So review, private message me, vote- let your voice be heard! :) I now feel like it's election time again.**

**Also, because I know some of you are wondering- yes, I'm making a sequel so to speak. The way I see it is I'm writing this till I kill everyone or we reach a decent conclusion... whichever comes first. But anything Cato/Nicaea that I write will be posted right here.**

**Thank you to all of my wonderful readers... if only more of you would talk... I jest. I understand not wanting to post reviews. Anywho, special thanks to Frostivy, pretty-pleasee, HungerFabrevans, Guest (Thank you! :) I love writing fun, whimsical moments like those with Finnick and Nic. And Cato's fun too... even if he has a tendency to act like a possessive toddler.), XxEyelinerHeartsxX, and mangesboy01 for reviewing.**

* * *

"Nicaea!" Castalia screeches as soon as she enters the house, the faint fish smell from the factory coming in with her. "What were you trying to do? Repaint the room with flour?"

I glower over at her, my arms crossed over my chest. Learning how to bake is a tough business. Especially when the person teaching you decides not to show up. It really wasn't my fault that the mixer decided to malfunction and send flour flying everywhere. Honestly, I'm the victim here.

"It wasn't my fault," I say simply, blowing a stray piece of hair out of my face. "The mixer was acting up."

"Where is Liam? He's supposed to be showing you how to do all of this."

I shrug. I don't know where Liam is. He comes and goes as he pleases and doesn't bother filling me in on the details. Not that I care. Liam's generally a rather unpleasant character and, if you ask me, the longer he stays away, the better.

She lets out a frustrated snarl and marches out of the room, calling over her shoulder that she won't be the one to clean up this mess.

I agree. I won't be either. I'll leave it for Liam, whenever he gets here.

I wander out of the now filthy kitchen and out onto the wooden back porch, which faces the ocean. My eyes close as I sink down into the swing. Other than baking lessons, life is beautiful.

Since I got back a couple months ago, my family and I moved into my new bungalow in the Victor's Circle. It's made of real wood from District 7 rather than the cheap stucco that the houses in town are made of; it has two stories and a basement to it. There are four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, dining room, and several other rooms that I haven't even bothered to venture into. In short, it's the complete opposite of the house we were living in before the Games. Although we still have the little, yellow house, on the legal documents it's where the rest of my family is supposed to be living.

A body plops down beside me, sending the swing into a dangerous dance as it tries to regain equilibrium. I look up to see Liam, a fellow Victor and Finnick's other mentor, sitting beside me. Liam has sandy blonde hair that hangs in a wavy mess over his forehead and an ever-present bit of stubble. He's tall like most men around here and has dark brown eyes that like glaring at everyone and everything.

"About time you showed up," I scoff.

He quirks an eyebrow at me.

"I had to start on my own."

He lets out a groan, leaning back on the swing so much it nearly tips over. "You didn't," he says miserably. "Didn't you learn from last time?"

"You were late," I say snootily. "I had no other option. Keenan and I were hungry."

He glares at me. "You made a mess," he says simply. "That's why there's flour in your hair. I'm not cleaning up after you again."

"I think you should. It's your fault. If you'd been here when you'd said you would be, none of this would have happened."

He rolls his eyes. "That excuse is not working again, Nicaea. Come get me when you've cleaned it up." He gets up and wanders off through the sand back to his house, pausing for just a moment to ruffle Keenan's hair while he plays. Despite his obvious dislike for me, he, like everyone else, seems to love doting on my younger brother.

I roll my eyes after him. He's such a grouch. Why couldn't Finnick have taught me how to bake? Or Mags? They're both pleasant. And it's not like the people of the Capitol really care about the baking part. They'll just care about how pretty the frosting is. That's if they even care about my talent, which I doubt. Nobody cares that Finnick can play the flute or that Annie's amazing at flower arrangements.

I lay down on the swing, my eyes closing shut again as the wind from the ocean rocks me gently back and forth and my mind begins wandering to the boy in 2, the one who made all of this possible. I smile to myself at the thought of him. I miss him.

A jab to my side takes me out of my momentary reverie. My eyes open to see Keenan's blue ones staring straight into mine, his head cocked to the side so he can look at me head-on. "Nicci, I'm hungry."

I groan as I move up into a sitting position. "Ok. We'll find you something that doesn't require cooking." I take his hand and we go back into the kitchen to begin the hunt for non-flour-coated, edible food.

Ten minutes later, we're sitting on the swing again, stuffing peanut butter and apple slices into our mouths and watching the waves roll in.

He looks up at me. "I love you, Nicci."

I lean down and kiss the top of his head. "I love you too, Keenan."

"You won't leave again, will you?" The way he says it tells me that's he's been thinking about it for a while.

"I'll have to leave sometimes," I say honestly, running my fingers through his hair as I stare out at the waves rolling up onto the beach. "But I'll always come back to you."

He nods, satisfied with the answer, and goes back to stuffing gobs of peanut butter in his mouth. "Can we go swimming?"

"Later," I say, "after I get the kitchen cleaned up."

He clambers down from the swing and scurries off into the house. I hear him stomping up the stairs and off to his room where I'm sure he's changing into his swimming suit so he can begin bugging me to get a move on.

With a sigh, I heave myself up and move into the kitchen. If I start now, I can go for a swim and still fit in a baking lesson before the twins get home from school.

* * *

Keenan and I walk slowly to Mags' house. Since all of the Victor's houses are only a few yards apart, it's just a short walk along the rickety, old boardwalk. The houses are all similar to mine except they have bountiful gardens that have overtaken entire yards with bursts of brilliant color and, in Mags' case, part of the porch.

The gardens are the work of Annie Cresta, another female Victor. She won about five years ago, but was dubbed mad after her victory by the Capitol. She isn't though. Annie, like the rest of us, had to cope with what happened to her in the Arena and, to do that, she turned in on herself. She doesn't talk much, preferring to spend her time in the beautiful gardens she's built.

That's arguably my favorite thing about her. She doesn't pry and lets me sit and think; there're no questions about the Games or the Capitol or the Rebellion with her. We just sit and soak in the other's presence.

I look down at Keenan as he swings a stick at the imaginary monsters lurking in the nearby bushes. He lets out little shouts as he plays, tugging on my hand to hurry me along to safety.

He is one of the main reasons I'm going along with Finnick's plans for rebellion against the Capitol. For him and Lara and Lilaea. For Castalia and the other Victors. For Cato. For all the wrongs that have been committed against the people of Panem since the Dark Days and long before that. It's time to put an end to the tyranny.

We wander up the stairs of the porch, Keenan prodding the bushes with his stick to ensure our safety from monsters before knocking on Mags' door. When she opens it, he runs up to her, hugging her tight around her legs. She's become a sort of surrogate grandmother to him over the past few months. "Mags!"

Mags smiles warmly down at him. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Do you mind if he stays here? Castalia's asleep and I'm supposed to have a baking lesson with Liam."

"Of course not, Nicaea. You know you don't have to ask."

Keenan crows in delight before turning tail and disappearing into the bushes. He knows that, for the next couple hours, he'll get whatever he wants.

Mags shoos me off. "Go on, don't keep Liam waiting."

I turn and scurry off to Liam's house.

"There you are," he drawls from the porch when I enter his yard. "Took you long enough."

"You didn't see the kitchen," I say, casting him a bitter look. "What are we working on today?"

He smirks at me. "Cupcakes, cupcake."

I glare. He knows I hate it when he calls me that. He doesn't care about me and is only teaching me to bake because Finnick asked him to.

"We're having another get-together tonight," he says nonchalantly as he leads me into his house.

The get-togethers are meetings with the other Victors to discuss news from District 13. It blew my mind to find out that the District believed to have been destroyed was actually just living in hiding, biding its time until they could come back, destroy the Capitol, and gain freedom for the other Districts. After these past Games, when Katniss's actions spurred rebellion in some of the poorer districts, 13 decided it was time. Then the two "pets" from the Capitol won instead. Coin, the leader of 13, had been upset and declared us useless, but Finnick convinced her otherwise and the rebellion is continuing. I don't have much to do since I have no contact with anyone outside of the District besides Cato, but Finnick insists that I sit in on the meetings.

I nod at Liam before entering the kitchen and tugging an apron on.

He begins giving me instructions and guiding me through the process of baking cupcakes in his dull monotone and, surprisingly, they turn out alright. Alright meaning they didn't burn, overcook, undercook or somehow manage to set the house on fire. After all the struggled attempts to just time things right, it doesn't matter to me what they taste like, which will probably be awful, the fact that they survived makes me utterly happy.

"You can take them home with you," he says after I've sloppily frosted them. I know he's only offering because he knows they'll taste wretched, but I can't help grinning at him.

"Ok," I say, boxing them up. "Thanks, Liam."

He nods and I wander out of his house and back to Mags's to pick up Keenan, the box balanced on my hip.

Keenan meets me at the door with a big, toothy smile. "Mags is reading me a story, Nicci."

"Oh?" I say, ruffling his hair and wandering into the living room where Mags has a book spread across her lap. She smiles up at me. I pick Keenan up and plop down on the floor, snuggling him as Mags continues reading.

It's King Arthur. One of the oldest myths we tell here, but typically a favorite with the boys. I watch Keenan's eyes light up as the battle in the story rages on. He lets out a small gasp when Arthur dies, looking up at me in disbelief.

On the way home, he runs ahead of me, swinging an imaginary sword. As we go up the steps, he turns to me and stabs the air. "I'm Cato!" he exclaims.

My heart stops and the world begins closing in on me. My throat closes up and I gasp for air. The box of cupcakes crashes to the ground as my hands scrabble at my throat. I can't breathe.

I hear Keenan scream and the sound of people running.

My knees collide roughly with the ground as I fight to breathe, images of Cato and the games flashing in my mind. Death. Blood. Slaughter.

Something is pressed against my mouth, a hand clamping behind my head when I fight to get away. "Breathe. Nicaea, breathe."

I try, but my lungs won't fill with air no matter how hard I try.

"Look at the bag. It's filling up because you're breathing into it. Look!"

I do and see that it's true. I try and slow my breathing and it does eventually.

I collapse back onto the wooden porch, exhausted.

"What happened?" It's Liam. His voice is a low growl.

"Keenan mentioned Cato," I pant, feeling like I've run a marathon.

He makes a disgusted sound, the wood creaking as he settles in. "The guy you're in love with isn't supposed to send you into a panic attack." He snorts. "Maybe you don't love him."

"I do," I snarl, moving into a sitting position. "Not that you know anything about love."

His face hardens and he gets up, leaving without saying another word.

I glare after him. He's such an intolerable person, completely incapable of happiness.

* * *

"Liam called earlier, what happened, cupcake?"

I sigh, my body sliding down the wall until I'm in the fetal position on the floor, the phone cradled to my ear. "Keenan mentioned Cato. I don't know why, but it triggered a panic attack. I'm ok now though."

"All it took was him mentioning Cato?"

"He was pretending to kill things. I thought he was pretending to be King Arthur. Mags had been reading that to him right before." My eyes close and I choke back a sob. "I don't know why that happened, Finnick. I talked to him yesterday and nothing happened."

"You just weren't expecting it. You've been doing better. Soon it won't do that." He sounds so tired.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah." There's a pause. "I have to go, cupcake. I have a client waiting."

My heart aches. Snow calls him to the Capitol all the time to deal with "clients", people Snow wants to keep on his side or people who've paid for Finnick's time. It's disgusting, but a cruel reality most Victors face. Cato and I have been fortunate; our relationship is saving us from that.

"I love you, Finnick."

"I love you too, Nicci. Stay safe."

The line goes dead and I let the phone dangle by my head, hugging my knees closer to my chest. I don't know what to do. I'm broken. No matter what I do, I don't get better. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I should have seen or made some progress by now, shouldn't I?

After about an hour, I get up and go to my room, my feet padding softly on the wooden floor as I make my way upstairs. I peek in both of the kids' rooms. Lara and Lilaea are sound asleep, faces buried in their pillows. I smile and shut the door behind me.

In Keenan's room, I tug the sheet up on him and kiss his forehead. I scared him today, but he was alright when he went to bed. We talked about what happened and we're moving on from it. It's moments like that that make me wonder how my parents were able to handle raising all of us.

I stumble into my room and collapse on my bed, not even bothering to change out of my clothes. I'm tired and ready for this day to be done.

The only time I wake up is when Keenan snuggles into the bed with me.

* * *

The sound of splintering wood and shouts wakes me up in the morning. In an instant, I have Keenan in my arms and am running down the hall to the twins' bedroom. I have to protect them, keep them safe. We're all we have. I can't lose them.

Before I reach them though, I'm thrown on my back, someone having grabbed my hair and tugged me down.

I let out a scream, rolling onto my stomach to shield Keenan from whatever's going on. They'll have to kill me to get to him.

There's a yank on my hair again and I'm forced into a kneeling position, Keenan cradled to my chest, tears pouring from his eyes as his hands clench at my shirt.

I look into the face of a Peacekeeper. "That's her," a cold female voice says. "Take her away."

Keenan's ripped from my hands. My fists and legs flail out as I scream, attempting to get back to him, to save and protect him.

A needle is jabbed into my arm and I fall to the ground, consciousness leaving me before I hit the ground.


	21. A Modern Guinevere

**I'm feeling curious. And a little greedy. Or ambitious, whatever you want to call it. Maybe I'm just riding out the high of all the reviews and follows and favorites this week. Anyway, this currently has 92 reviews. If we can get it up to 100 by Sunday I'll post the next chapter. Get it to 105 and I'll post a sneak-peek of the one after that. Whatdaya say, kiddos? Up for it?**

**Alright, now that I've whored my mind out for reviews... thank you all for reading and favoriting, following, or both. :) Super special thanks to pretty-pleasee, Midnight'sRevenge, BlueEyedWolf33, Caella, mangesboy01, Guest (Thanks. :) Liam will definitely be playing a role throughout this. A relatively big one.), and XxEyelinerHeartsxX. You guys make my day.**

**Also, I actually have a poll up. And, if it goes well (meaning people actually vote), I may post some others concerning things that I'm debating on.**

* * *

I wake on a bed.

I don't know where I am.

This place is strange. It has an odd feeling to it, like it hasn't been lived in. There are no curtains on the windows and the closets are empty. There's no furniture anywhere save for the bed I awoke on and the table and chairs in the kitchen. There's a light coating of dust everywhere and, where the sun streams through the windows, I can see it dancing in the air. I wander through the house looking for some sign of habitation, but I find none.

My fingers clutch at the doorknobs and claw at the windows, trying to open them, trying to get out.

It's no use though.

I'm alone.

I collapse onto the floor in a heap, automatically hugging my knees tight to my chest.

I wish-

Then it clicks. There was a phone in the hallway. Maybe I can call home and try to figure out what's going on.

I run pell-mell down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of the old, dusty telephone before clutching at it as if it were my only lifeline. I dial the number for home and hear the phone ring, my heart rate increasing with every passing moment.

"Hello?" It's Castalia; her voice is hoarse as if she's been crying. I can't imagine the carnage left behind at the house. As awful as it's been for me, it had to be worse for them; they didn't get any medicine to keep them unconscious.

I sigh in relief though, surely they're ok. "Cassie, it's me."

"Nicci!" she sobs. "Where are you? What happened?"

"I don't know. I don't know," I sputter, tears running down my cheeks. "Call Finnick or Liam. They'll know what to do."

"Are you ok?"

I nod before realizing she can't see me. "Yeah. Just scared. Are you ok?"

"We're fine. No panic attack?"

"No. I think they drugged me, like they did in the Capitol."

"Nic," her voice is strangled.

"I'll be ok. Just call Finnick or Liam. Now."

"I love you, Nicci. Call me as soon as you can."

The phone call ends with a click.

I settle the receiver back in the cradle and wipe at my tears.

"Hello, Miss Cosgrove."

My heart stops as I slowly turn to face President Snow.

He's seated in one of the kitchen chairs as if he's been there all morning. He sends a cruel smile my way, gesturing for me to take the seat opposite him.

Numbly, I make my way over, my eyes never leaving his sickly thin face. He's wearing a white suit with a red rose in the lapel, the scent filling the kitchen to a nauseating point. It's the exact same as the last time I met him, when he crowned Cato and I as Victors.

"I'm glad to see you're awake and of sound mind and body."

I snort. There's nothing sound about my state of mind.

"You're probably wondering what's going on."

I nod as I settle into the seat.

"I needed to have a conversation with you and remind you of your duties." He leans forward on the last word, the smell of blood permeating through the air, overpowering the scent of roses.

I nervously swallow the bile that rises up my throat. "What duties are those?" I ask, attempting to make them sound harsh and cold, but they come out weak, the words of a scared, little girl.

He chuckles and leans back in his seat, fingers forming a steeple in front of his face. "Your duties to the Capitol, my dear. They are the reason you're alive right now."

A knot forms in my stomach. I have no duties to the Capitol. My relationship with Cato has given me immunity. I don't have to sell my body and time to meaningless citizens who'll forget about me in a year when the new model comes out. No. He's lying. He has to be.

He smiles at me. "You seem to have forgotten where your allegiances lay. And to some, it would appear you've forgotten just who you're in love with," he pauses, "and the fact that I can take him and every other person you love away from you."

I blink at him in surprise. I haven't forgotten who I'm in love with.

"Have you met Finnick's family?"

I shake my head.

"That's because I had them killed, Miss Cosgrove. He forgot his place too." He lets out another dark chuckle. "Liam knows a thing or two about that as well." He stands up to leave, a cane clicking on the hardwood floor. "Just remember that things didn't have to end badly for Guinevere."

I cock an eyebrow at him. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't-"

"Camelot wouldn't have been destroyed had Guinevere feared the might of Excalibur more. Her meddling with Lancelot cost Arthur his life." He looks deep into my eyes, attempting to convey meaning that I can't manage to grasp. "It would be a shame if a modern Guinevere couldn't learn from her predecessor." He sweeps out of the room, the backdoor opening before he can even touch it.

I feel the pieces fall into place in my mind. Guinevere, Lancelot, Arthur, Excalibur. Me, Finnick, Cato, Snow. Without actually saying it, Snow has threatened me away from Finnick with Cato's life. I glare at his shadow in the doorway as it becomes engulfed by two Peacekeepers. How dare he!

"Blindfold her and take her away."

Before I can react, they have me tied, gagged, and blindfolded and are leading me out of the room and into the cool air outside.

A clammy hand caresses my bare arm then cups my face. "Remember what I said, Miss Cosgrove."

I hear the sound of his cane clicking away as I'm shoved in the opposite direction by Peacekeepers. I stumble across what feels like cobblestone, my bare feet catching on the edges of them as I'm pushed along.

A door is opened and I'm shoved into a room.

"Another dose?" The voice is deep, but distinctly female. There's no vocal response, just the jab of another needle in my arm. Moments later, I collapse.

* * *

The sunlight blinds me. I sit up on another bed, blearily rubbing my eyes as I look around. This house seems more lived in, but still not homey like mine or any of the houses I've been in before today.

I race downstairs to the door and try wriggling the handle, wanting out and away, to run off like a scared animal, but it's no use. It's the same as the other house.

I run to a window, but have the same issue. It won't open. Even the view doesn't help, all I can see is a generic cul-de-sac with cobblestones and a small statue fountain in the center. I have no idea where I am or what I'm doing here. Why did Snow have to take me away from home to have that talk with me? Why couldn't it have taken place in my own District? And why'd he have to dump me in this second house?

Deep down, I know why though. In a strange place, Snow held the power. My ability to fight back was nonexistent. He was able to threaten me and terrify me without breaking a sweat.

The threat terrifies me. I don't want Cato to die. I don't want my family or friends to die. I also don't want to become a plaything of the Capitol, another puppet for them to tug around and use however they please. There's no winning though, no matter what I do something will go wrong.

A sob wracks my body as I crumple in on myself. I'm scared and confused and so alone.

When the tears slow and I feel like I have more control, I seek comfort in the upstairs shower; it's the closest I can get to the ocean. The warm water pounds against my body, melding with new tears.

I wish I could form some kind of escape plan, but I don't know what to do other than wait and see what else Snow has in store for me.

I take some soap and begin scouring my body, attempting to wash away my fear.

It will all be alright. It will all be ok. Snow won't do anything too terrible to me. Nothing that can't be overcome anyway. If he does, he'll create another martyr for the Rebellion and he certainly doesn't want that.

A sick part of my mind reminds me that there are other kinds of terrible, the kind that a man who supports the murder of twenty-three innocent children every year would be extremely good at inflicting. The President is a professional at psychological warfare, at breaking you down until you have nothing left, not even the will to fight for your own life.

As I'm washing the soap off of my face, the shower curtain is ripped away. I let out a small scream as I turn to face my attacker, my hands forming into fists to assault whoever it is. I'm not going down without a fight again. But they fall to my sides a moment later.

"I'm in 2," I whisper. Comfort fills me with this information.

My eyes soak in every inch of Cato. The shocked look on his face, his messed up hair, the sweaty clothes he's wearing, and the fist that is slowly falling to his side. My heart jumps in my chest. He's here, alive and unharmed by President Snow.

He reaches out and tentatively touches my cheek before looking down at the rest of me, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Embarrassment leads me to cover myself up, but I'm quickly stopped as Cato lets out a growl and shoves me up against the cool tile. His lips crash against mine, kissing me so hard that my lips feel like they may bruise. After a moment, my arms wrap around his neck and my lips eagerly move to keep pace with his.

He's alive. I'm in 2. Everything will be ok.

A chuckle comes from the doorway. "I take it whoever snuck into your house is a welcome visitor then."

My eyes fly open at the same moment as Cato's. He turns to glare at the person in the door. His stance is wide, arms held out at his sides to shield me from whoever it is. I peer under his arm though to see another tall male with dark brown hair and green eyes leaned up against the frame of the door.

He smirks when our eyes meet. "Ah. Your little plaything from the Games."

A knife stabs at my heart, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I wasn't a plaything.

The man's eyes return to Cato who's letting out a low growl. "I'll leave you to it." He turns and walks away, the bathroom door clicking shut behind him.

Cato's arms drop to his sides as he turns to face me again. "You should have told me you were coming."

"It wasn't a scheduled visit," I whisper, hugging myself as an image of Snow flashes in my mind. My eyes meet his and I find my mouth speaking before my brain can stop it, asking the question I can't seem to get out of my head, one brought forward again by the boy. "It wasn't just an act for you, was it?"

His arms wrap around me and I can smell the sweat and the metallic scent that I've come to associate with Cato on his skin. "Ignore Nero. He just likes causing trouble."

I push away, my eyes zeroing in on his. "You didn't answer my question."

He sighs. "No, Nicaea. I wasn't using you to win. I told you that before."

"Do you love me?" Again, the words are out there without my mind's approval, but I need these things reaffirmed. He hasn't said it since that day on the train.

He gives another sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. My heart plummets. "You know that I do." My eyes fly up to his face. "I wouldn't have said it before if I hadn't meant it, Nic."

I nod. That's the best I can hope to pry out of him for now.

He peels his wet shirt off and hands it over to me. I quirk my head to the side and he smirks at me. "You're covered in goosebumps."

I blush, remembering my nakedness, and tug the shirt on as he begins pulling his pants down. My cheeks heat up even more and I hurry out of the shower stall. "I'm going to go get dressed."

His chuckle follows me as I scurry out of the room, grabbing a towel off the rack as I go.

My body collapses on his bed, wet hair flying to land in a halo around my head. My mind is whirring as it begins processing all this new information. I was kidnapped by Snow early this morning so he could warn me away from Finnick and shove me into Cato's arms. And Cato… he loves me. A blush rises in my cheeks at the thought.

I tug the shirt off over my head. There will be time to think about that more later.

The towel hastily rubs over my body, thirstily soaking up the droplets of water. With a brief thought given to my abandoned clothes in the bathroom, I wrap the towel tightly around me and wander off down the stairs in search of a telephone. I need to talk to the others again, touch base and let them know what's happened and that I'm alright.

At the bottom of the stairs, I walk down a hallway towards what should be the kitchen. My phone is in the hallway next to the kitchen, the house earlier had a phone by the kitchen, and I hope this house is similar. It doesn't disappoint and I grasp the phone like the lifeline it is. With shaking fingers, I dial the number for home.

"Nicci?" the voice says before the second ring.

"Cassie," I sigh. "I'm in 2. With Cato. President Snow set it up." I leave out the details, this phone is probably tapped and I won't be helping anyone if I say anything bad.

She sighs now. "Good. You're ok?"

"Yeah. I'll call you later. I need to try and talk to Finnick again."

"We already called him. He said he was heading back. I'll try and catch him." She pauses and I hear her murmuring to someone on the other end. "Go have fun with Cato, Nicci. I love you."

"I love you too," I say, smiling.

The phone goes back in the holster and I blearily wipe my eyes. I'm exhausted. I wearily climb the stairs and go into the bedroom, collapsing on the bed without a second thought.

* * *

My breathing is erratic when I wake up. I clutch at my throat, trying to breathe, but it doesn't work. My feet kick at the bed sheets around me, trying to get free. I can't. I'm stuck. A hoarse scream escapes my throat, a strangled form of Cato's name. I claw at the sheets, trying to get a purchase and free myself so I can breathe.

Arms wrap around me, hold me down.

I claw at them, drawing blood.

There's a low curse and a holler.

I scream again, trying to get air into my lungs while I fight to get away.

If I can just get outside, I know I'll be alright.

My heart is pounding in my eardrums. It's drowning out all other sound now.

The same bag as always goes over my mouth. I can't see in the dark. I don't know who it is. I can't even hear them over the pounding of my heart, but I know they're speaking to me, I can feel their breath on my ear. I want to fight, but I instinctively breathe as deeply as I can, attempting to fill and empty the bag.

I collapse onto the bed a while later, covered in a light sheen of sweat from trying to get away.

A light comes on.

"What the hell was that?"

I don't open my eyes, choosing to focus on maintaining my slower breathing, but I know it's Cato. I open my mouth to answer, but someone else beats me to it. "She has panic attacks. They've been better lately, but the stress from today must have done her in. She's still in a fragile state. The Games shook her up."

Finnick.

I look up at him and smile faintly. He's always there to help me, like the best sort of brother.

He smiles back at me.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

My eyes flutter over to Cato, the smile falling from my face when I see his bloody arms and the irritated scowl on his face. I beat Finnick to the punch this time, rising to my feet so I'm standing directly in front of him. "It isn't exactly something you say over the phone," I whisper, my voice slightly hoarse from the screaming.

He looks down at me, concern evident in his eyes.

I lightly touch his arm. "I'm sorry." I turn away, looking at the door I so desperately wanted to get out of a few minutes before. "I need a drink. I'll be back."

The wood and tile are cool on my feet as I make my way to the kitchen and I hug myself for warmth, hopping from one foot to the other as the tap fills the glass with water. I drink slowly, luxuriating in the feel of the cold water on my sore throat.

When I'm done, I creep back upstairs, moving quietly in the moonlight. Halfway up, I hear voices.

"If it's any consolation, you're the one she always calls for," I hear Finnick say. "I've always been the one to bring her down from it, but she never wants me. She always wants you."

A squeak of the mattress tells me one of them's sat down on the bed. I creep slightly closer, my feet silent on the stairs.

"Look, if you can't handle the pressure, kid, tell me now and I'll start weaning her off of you. That girl is the closest thing I have to family and I won't let you hurt her." The threat in Finnick's tone scares me slightly. I've never heard him so upset before.

"I just didn't know she was that bad."

"She's a good actress." Another creak of the mattress.

"Does Annie have panic attacks too?"

"She did. They're rare now, but if she gets startled or scared she'll freeze up. And if you throw something new at her she'll wander around lost for days until she reestablishes a routine." Finnick sighs and I know he's running his hands through his messy hair.

"I'm glad you were here. I wouldn't have known what to do."

"She had Castalia call me. I knew she needed me."

"You love her."

"I do. She, Annie, and the other Victors are all the family I have left."

Tears well up in my eyes and I rub at them viciously. I will not cry.

The next stair creaks and the voices stop. I walk into the room, blinking in the light. Cato and Finnick are both sitting on the bed looking completely worn out. I give them a small smile and plop down between the two of them.

"I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, cupcake." Finnick ruffles my hair then stands up, leaning back until his back lets out a pop. "I'll be next door if you need me again." He wanders off into the hallway and I listen to his footsteps until a door shuts and silence descends around us.

I look over at Cato. His elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped tightly in front of him. The blood's been washed from his arms, but the scratches are still visible, long lines of pink against his skin. I tentatively reach out and touch one. He looks up at me, meeting my eyes. The fury from earlier is gone. There's only curiosity.

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have handled it."

He knows it wasn't just that I didn't want to tell him over the telephone. I sigh and lean against him, my arm sliding through to loop around his and my head resting on his shoulder. "I'll explain everything later. I promise. For now we just have to let things be." He lets out a low rumble of disapproval. "Growling won't help. I'll tell you everything you want to know later." I look up at him. "Everything."

After a moment, he nods and I smile inwardly. I hadn't expected him to drop the subject so quickly, but I take it. I lean up and kiss him on the cheek before crawling up the bed and burrowing under the covers.

* * *

When I wake up, Cato's playing with my hair. I smile sheepishly up at him before rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and snuggling in close to his side. He smells wonderful and I love how warm his skin feels against mine.

"Go back to sleep, babe. It's still early." His voice is rough and gravelly.

A shiver works up my spine as he traces a pattern down my back. "Are you going to too?"

"Eventually."

I nod and close my eyes, easily slipping back into sleep.

* * *

The third time I wake up, I'm alone. I rub at my eyes, blinking in the sunlight, before stretching deliciously across the bed, my back popping loudly in the silence. I clean up quickly in the bathroom, scrubbing my face and tying my hair back.

As I meander downstairs, I listen for other voices, any sign really as to where the other two are.

"Why not?" It's Cato. He doesn't sound happy either.

"You saw what happened last night. She isn't stable enough yet. If you'll come down, I'll show you how to take care of her in case she has another attack, then you two can go wherever."

"Why do you get to say where she goes? Shouldn't she decide?"

"Mentoring doesn't end once you're out of the Arena."

I nibble my bottom lip as I stand outside of the kitchen. I hadn't thought about staying here. Granted, I hadn't been conscious much the last day and a half. My mind wanders back home to Keenan and the girls. I can't just up and leave them for an unknown amount of time. I'll come back for another visit, a scheduled one next time. I'd really like to spend more time getting to know Cato. Actually know him.

"You really think she can't handle this?"

"Keenan mentioned you and she had a panic attack. I just… I don't know how wise it would be right now."

I hang my head as shame washes over me. I still don't know why that happened and I feel awful about it, awful that Cato had to hear about it. I hug my arms close to me and look down the hall at the large oak door.

"Nic."

I look up to see Cato, his arms crossed over his chest. He really isn't happy. I knew it.

"Cato, I-"

He shakes his head and my mouth snaps shut. "You need to eat. We'll talk later."

My head bobs up and down and I follow him into the kitchen.

"Eat up, cupcake. Train leaves in less than an hour."


	22. Complicated Mess

**Well, here we are. Short AN this time because I'm tired, but watching a 4-year-old for hours will do that to you.**

**Thank you to pretty-pleasee, Guest (Nah. Cato's not going now, but he will make it down there. And she'll make it up to 2. And cuteness will ensue in both places... at least that's the plan. As for the Rebellion, Snow knows that there's discontent and any secret gatherings, even if he couldn't hear what was being said, would be a bit of a red flag. :) Hope that cleared things up some. Thanks for reviewing!), ShiroKoneko82, Lilly (Aww. :) Thank you. I'm glad you like it!), mangesboy01, and mormongirl33 for their wonderful reviews. Thank you to everyone who's favorited and followed and read. I hope you all like this chapter. :)**

**Also... you may wanna check out that poll... otherwise I'm left to my own wicked devices. ;)**

* * *

I suck on a mango seed while I listen to Finnick talk. We got home about an hour ago from District 2. It was arguably the worst few hours of my life. Finnick and I didn't speak most of the time. I know he's planning something and I know I don't want to be a part of it anymore. I want to stand on the sidelines silently lending my support, but not actually doing things. I can't risk the people I love.

As soon as we got back, he began gathering up the other Victors and headed straight for the beach. This is where the Rebellion meetings always take place since it's the only place they've found that can't be bugged. Originally, they'd thought going out in a ship would be the best solution, but even the ships are easy for Snow to monitor, not that we'd be allowed to take one out whenever we wanted to.

"He threatened Nicci. He took her from her home, drugged her, threatened her, and dumped her in a house." Finnick is mad. As mad as I've ever seen anyone and I've been with a homicidal Cato. He's kicking sand and hissing, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "We cannot let this transgression go."

"What'd he tell you again?" Liam asks, eyeing me carefully.

I toss the seed into the ocean before turning back to face the group. "Guinevere should have feared Excalibur more. Her meddling with Lancelot cost Arthur his life." We meet eyes. "Mags was reading King Arthur to Keenan a few hours before I left. The houses aren't safe."

"Her meddling with Lancelot," he murmurs, ignoring me. His mind's whirring, putting puzzle pieces together. "I'm not sure he knows you're part of the Rebellion. He just thinks you're too close to Finnick and he's worried that you will become part of it."

Mags nods her agreement.

There. It's my out and I plan on taking it. Before I can open my mouth though, Finnick's speaking again.

"He still threatened her, Liam."

"Snow has threatened and taken stuff away from all of us, Finnick. It's part of being a Victor."

They look at each other for a moment, unspoken words passing between the two of them. Liam's face is hard and it looks like he may be as upset as Finnick now.

"I know that. We have to draw a line in the sand though. This can't go without retaliation."

I run a hand through my hair and dig my toes into the sand. This is what he was thinking about on the train down here. Yes, it was scary and yes, it shouldn't have happened, but he can't risk all the progress they've made just for some quick retaliation. Finnick needs to calm down before he manages to rationalize an immediate attack on the President. "It'll be ok, Finn. Nothing's going to happen right now. We'll just have to spend less time together, that's all."

"We should get the boy down here too," Patrick, the oldest male Victor, says. Patrick won about thirty years ago, the second child that Mags coached through the Games, and is now pushing fifty if he isn't already past that. He has a light frosting of gray touching the edges of his brown hair and green eyes that remind me of the sea. His skin is tanned and has a leathery appearance from the amount of time he spent out in the sun in his younger years, it's something many people in 4 have.

Liam nods in agreement. "We need to talk to him about this. He has to know about the Rebellion otherwise it'll all fall apart when the time comes."

"Do you think he'd join us?" Finnick asks, eyeing me. As far as any of them are concerned, I'm the expert when it comes to Cato.

"I don't know," I murmur, eyes falling to the hands now clasped in my lap. "He might. He really likes being a Victor though."

"He'll change his mind after we tell him about Snow." Finnick looks out at the ocean. "He'll be pissed when he finds out he threatened you."

"You didn't tell him?" Patrick sounds astonished.

I shake my head. "I knew Snow'd be listening in."

"Fair enough."

Liam crashes to the ground, sandy hair falling into his eyes.

Mags' voice shakes slightly as she tries to be heard above the waves. "You need to talk to him, Nicci. Wouldn't you want to know if Snow had threatened Cato?" These chats are usually high-strung with emotions, but Mags always manages to be the voice of reason and keeps the rest of us down to earth.

It's hard to imagine someone as sickly as Snow threatening Cato, but I know he's more than capable of it and capable of having whatever threat he could concoct brought to fruition. A knot forms in my stomach as I nod. "I will."

"How soon can we get him here?" Patrick asks, looking to Finnick for the answer.

We all turn to watch him. He doesn't turn to look back though. He just keeps watching the horizon and the waves crashing against the beach.

Liam lets out a cough, bringing Finnick back to us and the topic at hand.

"I'll get him here soon." He turns and eyes us all. "We can't let this happen again though. We have to be more careful. What if-" his voice catches and he pauses for a moment then shakes his head, turning back to the water. We all know what he meant though and his anger suddenly makes so much more sense. What if it had been Annie?

"It won't happen again. I'm done. I'll play the good girl," I say, getting up and dusting the sand off of my legs and shorts. "Let me know if anything big goes down. I'll work on meditating and honing my talent in the meantime."

Everything's silent for a moment. This must remind them of what happened with Aoife, another female Victor in her thirties. I remember what Finnick said about her- that she was a big supporter in the beginning, but that she began helping less and less after she got married, then stopped completely when she became pregnant a few months back.

"How is that going?" Finnick asks, his voice is cool. He's choosing to ignore my comment about abandoning ship.

Liam snorts. "She's awful. Tell him about the kitchen the other day."

Finnick raises an eyebrow and I can feel Mags and Patrick watching me as well. "I may have… you know…" I rub the back of my neck as I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"She got flour all over the walls!" he cackles. "Everywhere. Twice. I don't even know how it's possible!"

"I am going home now. Do not be surprised if you end up with a present at your house when you get back." I eye Liam coldy.

"Don't even think about it, mermaid," he snickers.

"We'll talk more soon, Nicaea," Finnick says. "Check on Annie for me, will you?"

I nod and wander off, knowing it won't be a happy talk we're going to have later on.

The sand feels hot on my bare feet, but I ignore it. Being able to feel the sand again seems like such a luxury after the Games and that fright yesterday. I tuck my hands in my pockets as I go, humming a random sea shanty and watching the waves wash up on the shore. This is home and I never want to leave.

Annie's house is a soft blue with bright yellow shutters. Plants grow on every available inch of her property forming a jungle Keenan enjoys playing in when I visit Annie on Tuesday and Thursday. Normally she wanders around in the back, watering and trimming things while she hums to herself.

That's where I find her now, making an arrangement of tulips for her kitchen.

Her big, blue eyes meet mine. "You weren't here on Tuesday."

"I know. I'm so sorry, Annie."

"They said you were gone. Like Finnick."

"Kind of," I say, sitting down beside her in the grass.

Her eyes go back to her work, moving a pink tulip over and replacing it with a yellow one. "Finnick said you weren't going to have to do that." She smiles down at the vase, having made it perfect. "That you'd be like me."

"I am. I was in 2."

"That's where he's from. The boy you like." She turns her smile on me, blue eyes crinkling. I love Annie's eyes. They're impossibly bright and framed by thick, black lashes. She even has a light dusting of freckles on her nose that help them stand out even more.

"It is. Annie, I think I love him."

"I think you do too."

I grin at her. Despite the typical simplicity of our conversations, I love talking with Annie.

"I want to meet him."

"I hope you do. And soon."

She leans forward, elbows resting on her knees and head resting on her hands. "You miss him."

A simple nod. "Did you eat any of the cupcakes I made the other day?"

She nibbles on her bottom lip. Annie isn't good at lying; Finnick says she hasn't been since she got back. It just isn't in her anymore, he says, she can't keep it straight from the truth so she just tells the truth to keep things simple.

"It's ok if you didn't. They were awful."

She nods.

"At least I can cook," I say with a smile. "Kind of." Cooking for me typically consists of cutting up an apple and dunking it in peanut butter or slicing up a mango.

Annie's eyes flick past me and light up. Finnick must be back now. She jumps to her feet and runs past me. I watch her body crash into his as he pulls her in for a quick kiss.

I get up and stretch, my eyes wandering to a different part of the garden. I love the section full of honeysuckle growing up an arching trellis. It always smells like heaven over there. After my back pops, I walk away without casting them another glance.

* * *

Lara and Lilaea meet me halfway up the stairs to my room.

"We were wondering-"

"If we could go-"

"Into town and-"

"Swim at the Academy."

They flash me toothy smiles so big that they're brown eyes scrunch shut.

I shrug at them. "I don't see why not. Just be back in time for supper."

They rush past me and down the stairs like a hurricane.

"Where are Keenan and Castalia?"

"Shopping in town."

"We needed more food."

"Ok. Be careful." I go to continue up the stairs, but fall short, turning and looking at their retreating backs. "Do you want me to walk you down there?"

"No, Nicci," they sigh in unison, running out the door before I can question them further. I watch their little pigtails flap behind them till they're out of sight, not even the sound of their laughter echoing back to me.

In my room, I plop down on the bed, running my hand over the smooth silk of my comforter. My eyes shut as I collapse back on the bed. It's been such a long day and I could really go for a nap. That train ride from 2 had been such a dull and awkward ride.

2, I think, my eyes opening wide. I need to call Cato. I told him I would when we got back, but that was such a mess that I completely forgot.

I run down the stairs and am dialing his number before my mind can even begin to catch up with my body. The earpiece is cradled between my shoulder and ear as I listen to it ringing on the other end.

"Brutus, I don't care about-"

"I'm not Brutus."

"Nic," he sighs.

"Brutus been bothering you?"

"He wants me back at the Academy to help with training. I got in trouble for not going there the last couple days."

"I'm sorry," I murmur, knowing I was the reason he didn't go.

"No need. Trip go ok?"

"Better than last time." It sounds bitter and I choke it down. Snow is listening and I can't make him mad.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It helps knowing where you're going."

"Babe…"

"I'll tell you anything you want to know when you come down here." There. That should help solve Finnick's dilemma.

"I know."

The front door opens and I can hear Keenan prattling about the seagulls to Castalia. "I gotta go. Castalia and Keenan are back."

"Ok. Be careful. Wait!"

I pause, glancing down at the receiver. "Yeah?"

"You haven't… you know… had any more?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment and I shake my head. "No." No more panic attacks for now. I should take a couple more pills though. I haven't since before... before all that.

"Good. Love you."

Then the line goes dead. I stand there, grinning at the phone for a moment, before skipping down the hallway and giving Castalia and Keenan a hug. "How was shopping?" I ask, taking a bag from my sister.

"It was alright. Keenan tried to buy all the candy in the store though. You're spoiling him," she scolds, walking off into the kitchen.

I shrug and follow her, taking a peppermint from the bag I'm carrying and giving Keenan a piece.

"I saw that," she calls, not even bothering to turn around.

Keenan runs upstairs so she can't take the candy away and I follow her into the bright, yellow and white kitchen. I set the bag on the counter and hop up on the island while Cassie goes around putting things away. I don't even know where most of the things are in this place, it's more her domain than mine.

"Dad called yesterday."

I tear my eyes away from the window and the view of the beach and look at her.

She gnaws on her bottom lip for a moment, her eyes refusing to meet mine, but staring blatantly at the ground in front of her. "He's not coming back."

I sigh and hug my knees up to my chest, nodding. I knew it was highly likely that he wouldn't, at least not until Cassie moved out. She looks too much like Mom. It'd be a constant reminder of what he lost. We all would really; each of us has a piece of her in us or about us. It's not a real excuse. I came back. We're all living with it. I understand the want to get away. I'd felt the same about the Capitol. I'll go back when I have to though. It's my job, my duty.

"He wants the twins and Keenan to come live with him."

"He what?" I snarl, instantly seeing red.

She sighs and looks up at me, her blue eyes filling up with tears. "He wants them to come live with him and Uncle Seamus. He doesn't want us to come though."

I jump down from the island and begin pacing. "He runs off after Mum dies, leaving you alone with three kids, he doesn't show up when I return from the Games, and now expects to just be able to sweep in and take them from us." I kick out at the island, not even caring when my toe gives a painful throb. "He can't do that," I say, a lump rising in my throat. My eyes are welling up with tears. I can't lose them. I fought so hard to come back to them, I can't lose them.

Her arms wrap around me and she buries her face in my shoulder. I can feel the tears soaking through my shirt. "He didn't even want to talk to me, Nicci," she whispers between sobs.

I hold her close and keep my eyes shut tight. I can't cry. I have to be strong. For all of us. "It'll be ok, Cassie."

"I'm hungry!" Keenan's voice echoes from the stairwell.

We hurriedly pull apart, wiping our eyes and trying our best to smile. Castalia walks over to the sink and begins washing the dishes that way Keenan won't have to see how red and blotchy her face is.

"Nicci! Cassie!" he calls, bounding around the corner. He grins up at me. "I'm hungry."

"We'll have supper soon. You can wait."

I watch as his bottom lip goes out, about to whine until her gets what he wants.

"Don't even, kiddo. We'll have supper soon. Go play until then."

"Ni-"

"No."

He slinks off, arms crossed over his chest.

"What're we going to do?" I whisper once he's out of earshot.

"There's nothing we can do, Nicci. Maybe he'll change his mind."

There's a brief pause as I debate my next question. "Did he ask about me?" I want and don't want to know the answer. But I reason that, at the very least, I'll know how to act from now on. I'll know whether or not I've lost both of my parents.

Castalia stares out the window for a moment. I know she's trying to decide what to tell me. Her head shakes and she whispers a soft "no".

I nod. "I'm going for a walk." I walk out the back door, down the porch, past the swing, and off into the sandy turf.

Life was supposed to be simple after I won. Not this huge, complicated mess. I wasn't supposed to have enemies or family issues to deal with. Everything was supposed to fall into nice, little squares. No complications, no worries.

* * *

It's early in the morning, the sun just barely peeking out from behind the buildings in the square and dew still clings to the plants growing from the shop windows. Almost no one is awake yet so it's practically silent as I make my way through the streets across town, which is ideal, I don't want anyone stopping me. Last time, all the people talking to me had caused me to chicken out and go back home, taking a pill to calm me back down.

Not this time though.

The cobblestone path leads me out of town and down near the dunes. There's the soft caw of seagulls and the rumble of the ocean, the scent of the sea filling my nose. I keep going though; I can swim after this is done. This is so much more important.

The metal gate opens with a loud creak caused by disuse and rust, few people bother coming here. It's too depressing for most.

I move the bundle of flowers from my left side to my right as I lean in close to the markers to try and read what they say. These are too old, dating back to the Dark Days, so I move on to the back, passing thousands of markers as I go.

The markers are arranged by year, not by family or marriage, so, after you get your bearings, it's relatively easy to navigate the graveyard and find the person you're looking for.

At the very back, I move along the markers until I get to the last two, a plain metal one and a golden one. My throat tightens when I see them. If one thing had changed in the Arena, there'd have been two golden stones here.

My knees give out and I collapse between the two of them, sobs wracking my body.

I lost them. Both of them. And I wasn't there to say goodbye to either of them.

Gently, I reach forward and touch the smooth, golden tombstone, my fingers moving over the letters as I read.

_Zayn Brenan – 74__th__ Hunger Games Tribute – Aged 17 – Male_

Indignation fills my body. How dare they reduce him to that! He was so much more than a 17-year-old boy who died in the Hunger Games. He was funny and supportive, thoughtful and kind, a wonderful friend and arguably the best person that walked into that Arena. He'd been a fantastic partner and, had he lived longer, I'd have worked with him to the final two, regardless of my feelings for Cato.

I crawl forward and rest my cheek against the cool metal. I miss him, more than I realized. I miss the sound of his laugh and the way he hugged me close when I was freaking out about the Games. I even miss his teasing and "tips" on how to seduce Cato if I changed my mind.

A watery laugh escapes my lips and I wipe away some of the tears.

If I could bring anyone back from the Games, it would have been the gray-eyed boy from my district. There's no argument in my mind. It would have been him.

For a long time, I just sit there, staring at his tombstone, reminiscing on our time together and wondering at everything he could have been. He'd wanted to be a ship captain and to go sailing out into the ocean to hunt down sharks and whale, an impossible task since none live around here, but admirable nonetheless. I even think he might have wanted to get married someday- not that we talked about that, the future is something you like to avoid thinking about when death is at your doorstep.

I brush a few more tears from my eyes. Even if I couldn't have stopped it, I wish I could have been there for his final moments. I like to think my presence would have been a comfort, something familiar among the foreign.

My hand trails down the golden obelisk, tracing his name over and over. I'll miss him more than words could ever express and I'm mad that it took me so long to come here and say goodbye to him. All my worries seem so foolish now that I'm here.

I take one of the bouquets of flowers that Annie put together and lay it gently in front of his marker. If she ever found out that I'd lied about what the flowers were for, she probably wouldn't talk to me for weeks, but it would be worth it. Zayn deserves flowers by his grave every day.

I turn to the grave beside it and feel fresh tears pour from my eyes. My mother.

_Reesa Browne Cosgrove – Aged 38 – Female – Wife to Kellan Cosgrove – Mother of five_

I don't feel the immediate pain, the choking, uncontrollable sobbing and the screams that I felt that day on the rooftop. There's been time to deal with her passing, almost every day has been a day to move on, but the tears still flow freely down my cheeks as I hug my knees to my chest and stare at the marker.

"Why?" I whisper. "Why didn't you wait?"


	23. You Can't Kiss My Sister

**I just wrote some of the most depressing stuff ever. I could honestly hate myself for writing it. Ugh. That's why this is early. I need some happy reviews.**

**Also this is a longer chapter... just remember that when the next two are shorter... and you get to meet people and learn more about other people and we get to see someone special and... yeah.**

**This first bit is maybe a couple days after the cemetery visit and the next one is maybe a week after. It's hard to include that in the text, so I thought I'd clarify here.**

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers- mormongirl33, ShiroKoneko82, pretty-pleasee, and Guest (That _would_ mean problem solved... but where's the fun in that? Thanks for reviewing. :) ). And to the followers, favoritors, and readers. This wouldn't exist if it weren't for you all.**

* * *

"I'm going with you," I say softly. I haven't been to the Academy since I got back from the Games. Honestly, I haven't done much besides listening to the other Victors plan the Rebellion, failing at baking, and helping take care of my younger siblings. I've become a virtual shut-in and it's time to change that.

The twins both roll their eyes at me before scuttling off ahead. I know I'm cramping their style, but I don't particularly care. I've earned a break from the monotonous life I've been leading. I can do whatever I want.

When it comes into sight, the Academy is exactly how I remember it- big and metal, divided into three floors with specialized tasks on each. The first holds several large pools with varying depths. The one on the end, the deepest one, has several diving boards attached. This is where children learn how to swim and dive. It's where I worked. It's also where the dummies used to practice CPR are located. The second floor is set up with weights and targets that always have tridents impaled in them. Occasionally, they hold lessons on shooting a harpoon here too. The third floor focuses on knot tying, net building, and learning basic things like how to bait a hook. Obviously, it isn't the most popular. I suspect that's why it's the most out of the way.

The twins scamper off away from me towards the changing rooms as soon as we enter the cool building, their backpacks bouncing against them as they go.

Despite the large amount of time spent here, I feel out of place. It's like I don't belong anymore. Something seems off.

"Ah! The hero returns!"

With a barely contained squeal, I turn to see Danny Finnigan and Maggie McCulloch, two of my best friends and fellow swimming instructors here. My arms wrap tightly around the two of them, my clothes getting soaked through as their wet bodies collide with mine. The smell of chlorine is strong, but I don't mind. It smells like home.

"What's kept ya away so long?" Maggie asks, her accent seeming thicker than it had been before I left. Her green eyes pierce me through and I feel a bit of guilt stab me. I should have at least visited them, even if I didn't feel like coming to the Academy.

"It's been a tough ride," I say with a shrug, opting for nonchalance.

"Yeah. Heard some Peacekeepers nabbed ya a few days ago."

I nod and wrap my arms around myself. I don't want to think about that.

Danny cuffs Maggie on the arm and I send him a grateful smile.

"Go get a suit on. You can help teach the next swimming lesson. The kids'll love it," he says, flashing me a quick smile.

I groan and roll my eyes, but head off towards the changing rooms, Maggie tagging along at my side. "We kept your locker," she says as we walk through the door. "It seemed wrong to get rid of it or open it."

"Did you keep Zayn's too?"

She shakes her head. "He didn't have one. I don't think he'd been here in a year or two."

"Oh," I murmur as more guilt stabs at me. It seems I didn't know half as much about Zayn as I thought and part of me wonders if training here more often might have been his saving grace. While I think these things over, my fingers twiddle until I get the combination right and my locker opens with a pop.

Like the building itself, my locker is just how I left it. The blue walls bare except for the piece of paper stating the Code of Conduct plastered into the door; my freshly cleaned red swimming suit neatly folded, a towel beneath it, and my goggles and whistle resting on top. It's almost as if I've stepped back in time or into an alternate reality, one not tainted by the Hunger Games.

That thought comes crashing down around me as I pull the clothes out and begin changing.

"So, you and Cato?" Her voice echoes in the spacious room.

"What about him?"

"Well," she pauses and glances around the locker room, "are you two together?"

"Yup," I say simply even though we've never actually discussed what we are. I'm certain Snow has this place rigged and it won't do to have him hear me doubting. I'll get abducted again.

She lets out a groan and sits down on a bench. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. It's selfish of you to keep him all to yourself ya know."

I grin over at her as I tug the last strap over my shoulder. "Yeah."

"So, did you?" She lets the question hang there before making a crude hand gesture.

"Nope."

"Did he try to?"

"Nope."

"Not even a grope?"

I roll my eyes as I begin tugging my hair back into a messy braid. "No, Maggie. Nothing like that happened."

"You have to tell Danny he did." I quirk an eyebrow at her. "Otherwise I owe him money."

I let out a small laugh. "Did you really bet on that?"

"After we knew you were gonna win, yeah. He needed knocked off his high horse. He was predicting everything that was happening."

"There's no way you could have known I'd win."

"You got a trident, Nic. If you didn't win, it would have been tragic. You'd have been disowned."

"Not that it would have mattered since I'd be dead," I point out.

She shrugs, moving behind me to finish braiding my hair. Her fingers are quick and nimble and she finishes a moment later, her hand moving to my back to shove me out the door and back out onto the floor where a group of kids are laughing and talking. "Keep an eye on the ginger with the birthmark. He's evil. He bites."

I can't help laughing, my mind transported back in time. It's as if nothing has changed.

With the exception of the twins, all of the kids turn to stare at me, their eyes going wide. I smile and give a little wave. I remember when Finnick came by the Training Center after he won. I was working on learning how to dive. I was so surprised I nearly fell off the diving board. Thankfully, Danny had been there to tug me back.

"Alright, kids, as you can see, we have an additional instructor today. This is Nicaea Cosgrove," Danny says and I catch him mumbling a quick "in case you forgot when she was working with you six months ago" as a chorus of whispers echoes through the room.

I smirk over at him.

"In the water!" Maggie yells over the little kids' yammering and they immediately hightail it for the pool, a wave rising up before settling back down. "Good. Five laps, then we'll work on diving."

* * *

Two hours later, Maggie, Danny, and I are making our way back through town, Lara and Lilaea dragging their feet behind us.

"How're Keenan and Castalia?" Danny asks.

I shrug. "They're alright. Keenan thinks he's going to save the world and Cassie's working too hard."

Maggie's nose wrinkles. "You couldn't make me work in the factories. They're disgusting. And it's horrible pay."

"Not to mention the cuts. She always has one or two on her hands from skinning fish all day. It's a miracle she hasn't got an infection yet."

"Why doesn't she quit?" Danny asks as we come to a stop.

"Doesn't want to rely on me. She says she won't be living with us forever, so she has to have a decent job for when that happens."

Maggie makes a gagging noise. "If I were her, I'd live with you forever."

Lara and Lilaea catch up to us and I smile down at them. "We better go. These two're tired and need food. See you guys soon?"

"You better come visit us. I know where you live. If you don't come back soon, I'll kidnap ya."

Danny shakes his head at Maggie's antics and I smile, giving them a quick hug before herding the twins down the boardwalk towards the Victor's houses.

* * *

I look down at the little boy in the tub in front of me. He grins brilliantly back at me before making the small, toy shark dive dramatically back into the soapy water. I grin from my perch on the countertop and hug my knees close to my chest. I wish I still had that childlike wonder, that easy happiness. I'd give anything to not have to worry about the things I do.

Suds fly up in the air as Keenan tosses them over his head, giggling.

I look out the window a few feet away and smile at the view of the ocean. There's going to be a bonfire tonight, possibly the last of the season. I'm so excited. I've always loved going to the village-wide parties. There's always a ton of delicious food, singing, dancing, and, of course, drinking along with some of the best company a person could ask for.

It doesn't hurt matters any that Finnick's coming back tonight. I haven't seen him in what feels like forever, but has really only been a little over a week. He's been my rock throughout this, from the very beginning. He helped me through the Games and has been helping me through my coping process. It's so nice to say that I feel much better about everything now. I've come to terms with a lot of it, the killing and the death. Even going out to the graveyard a week ago had helped. It hurt, standing there in front of the tombstones, but I'd felt better afterwards. There had been closure with the uncontrollable sobbing.

I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. I've refused to let Keenan see me cry anymore. I cried a lot the first few months that I was back, but I didn't want him to think that was the only way to cope with things, so I've been working hard to keep busy and not get so down about life since I got back from 2. That's been the beautiful thing about working at the Academy again, it helps me keep my mind off of things and has given me a chance to reconnect with parts of my past life.

There's a banging on the door, signifying the twins' arrival. Since I got them ready an hour ago that means something's wrong.

"Nicci-"

"Finnick!"

I almost squeal in delight. He's here earlier than expected. "Be down in a minute!"

"He says-"

"It's urgent!"

With a simultaneous giggle, they scamper back downstairs.

My brow furrows. The only time things are urgent is when things aren't going according to plan. "Ok," I say, grabbing a towel from the counter before hopping down. I scoop Keenan out of the tub and dry him off quickly, tugging underwear and pants on him before hurrying out the door with him on my hip.

We practically run down the stairs and he clambers out of my arms at the bottom so he can rush down the hall to see Finnick. Keenan absolutely adores him. It's sweet and Finnick's a good older brother for him, just like he has been for me. The way they interact makes me excited for the day when he and Annie can have kids. He'll be such a great father and their kids will be so cute.

When I get to the living room, I see Keenan standing in the doorway, his head tilted back and a look of complete awe on his face. "Honey, what's-" I turn into the room and my eyes widen- "up?" I whisper.

He turns and smiles at me, the left side tugging up more than the right, and his eyes shine brightly at me in the late afternoon light. He's in casual District 4 clothes, shorts and a simple shirt. In a heartbeat, he's across the room, enveloping me in a hug. "I missed you, babe." His head snuggles into the crook of my neck where he plants little kisses.

My arms wrap around him, pulling him as close as possible, relishing in how real he is, in the fact that he's here. "I missed you too," I whisper, leaning back to stare at his face.

He moves closer as my eyes flutter closed.

There's a thud then a loud "You can't kiss my sister!"

As reality crashes down around me, I look down to see Keenan hitting Cato in the leg with his tiny fists, quickly repeating the phrase in time with his punches.

Cato and I just stand there in a now awkward embrace, watching him.

Finnick swoops in and scoops him up. "Way to be, little man," he says, high-fiving Keenan. He beams at me as I move to stand beside Cato. "He's right of course. You aren't allowed to kiss our sister."

Keenan gives a big nod of agreement before they go over to sit on the couch beside the twins who are staring wide-eyed at Cato.

I roll my eyes, turning back to the huge blonde beside me. "I didn't expect you to be coming down here. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Surprise," he says, his voice deep and low. "It was Finnick's idea."

Finnick grins and gives a little wave.

"Well," I say with a big smile, "you picked the perfect day to come. We're having a bonfire later. It's going to be amazing."

There's a soft cough behind me and I turn to see Castalia grinning at me, a bit of flour on her cheek. She's been baking all afternoon in preparation for later. I don't know how she does it; my cupcakes are once again coming out resembling burnt coals.

"Cassie, this is Cato. Cato, this is my older sister, Castalia."

They smile at each other and Castalia adds, "I'm the bossy one."

I blush at the memory of that night in the Cornucopia and turn away. "I assume you met the twins. And Keenan couldn't have been too hard to figure out." He sends me a brilliant, toothy smile. I look back up at Cato who's shaking his head. I roll my eyes; of course Finnick wouldn't bother with introductions. "Alright then. Lara is on the left in purple, Lilaea is on the right in green. Keenan, of course, is the toddler who was punching your leg."

There's an awkward moment where everyone just kind of looks at everyone else. Then Finnick claps his hands and tosses Keenan over his shoulder as he stands up. "Well, I'm going to go get him dressed."

I smile up at Cato and take his hand, dragging him out of the room and onto the back porch for some privacy. I settle in on the swing and he leans up against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watches the waves roll in. "Beautiful, isn't it?" I say softly after a moment.

He nods.

"How was the trip?"

"Alright."

"I missed you," I whisper, looking over at him from my place on the swing.

He walks over and picks my legs up, sitting beneath them before nodding. "I missed you too, Nicci."

Things are quiet again for a moment and I know he's waiting for me to spill everything, like I promised I would, but now isn't the time. Soon enough, I'll tell him everything there is to know about the Games and the Rebellion and any of the problems that I've experienced. "Soon." I sit up and take his hand in mine, giving him a faint smile. "I'll tell you everything tomorrow. I promise."

He nods.

"There's a bonfire tonight, did Finnick tell you?" I bite down hard on my lip as soon as it comes out. He's been here five minutes and I'm already repeating myself.

He shakes his head. "We didn't talk much about that sort of thing."

My brow furrows. "What did you talk about?"

"You," he says simply, his eyes boring into mine.

My brow furrows even deeper. "What about me?"

He smirks. "Everything."

I sigh and rub my temples. "You're positively infuriating, you know."

Gently, he rubs circles in my back. "I know, cupcake."

My head whips around and I glare at him. "Only Finnick is allowed to call me that."

Cato smirks at me.

"I about beat Liam up for calling me that. Don't test me, 2."

He leans forward, an arm on either side of me, trapping me. "What if I want to?" he breathes. His face is about an inch away from mine and his smirk grows wider as I wriggle beneath his gaze. His mouth moves to my ear. "Huh, cupcake?"

* * *

My hands are clasped above my chest as my eyes soak in the couple standing waist-deep in the waves. The red-headed girl is radiant in her traditional blue gown, her hair cascading down her back in a mess of curls as she smiles happily up at her soon-to-be husband.

The official, our mayor, gives the signal and a net is lowered over the couple's heads. He says the final words before the two lean in for a kiss, their first kiss as a married couple.

The whole village erupts into a cacophony of noise, whoops and hollers echoing with the sounds of crying and whistles. My hands clap as I cheer happily for the couple. I don't know who they are, but it's impossible not to share in their joy as they gaze happily into each other's eyes.

I look up at Cato who looks absolutely confused.

"Are you ok?"

"That was a wedding?" He sounds disgusted.

"Yes," I say, drawing the word out. There was nothing disgusting about it. Our weddings are beautiful and heartfelt. They were born of tradition and revolve around our lives as fishermen. "What was wrong with it?"

"Why were they in the water?"

"It's natural to incorporate it in our weddings. Water's tied in with every major event of our lives; it's our livelihood."

His nose wrinkles up, clearly not caring for my answer. "How do you incorporate it in everything?"

"When we're born," I say, taking his hand and leading him to a less crowded section of beach so we can talk more comfortably, "we're bathed in water drawn from the ocean. We learn to swim here and make our living. We're married in it and, when we die, our ashes are tossed into it. The ocean is everything to us, Cato."

"Right," his voice rumbles. "What was up with the net?"

"The net symbolizes catching your soul mate." He snorts and I glare up at him, snatching my hand away. "If you prefer the less romanticized version of it, the net is like catching the right fish."

He lets out another snort. "Everything's about fish and water with you people."

"Better than death and killing," I snap back, glowering.

"I could go for some of that right about now," he says, eyeing one of the bonfires where absolutely horrendous singing can be heard. Some people like to start the party early.

I giggle and smile up at him. "If you don't like that, you'll hate what happens later."

"What happens la-"

"So fill to me the parting glass," Patrick belts out as he stumbles past us, a bottle of liquor in his hand. "Nicci!" He raises the bottle high, in toast to me, and then downs it, dropping the bottle into the sand. A moment later, he crashes there too.

"Patrick, are you alright?" I wander in close, but stop when I can smell the alcohol on him.

He blinks up at me. "Today was his birthday," he murmurs, glaring out at the rippling waves.

I sit down beside him, hugging my knees to my chest as I watch him. I glance up at Cato and gesture for him to join us. Gently, I take Patrick's hand, giving it a quick squeeze. I know exactly whose birthday it would have been today, but I can't imagine how hard it must be for him to cope. "I'm sorry." My voice comes out as a whisper, soft and quickly taken away by the wind.

"I was always so worried that one of them would get Reaped. Then one of them did. It happened and I-" his voice catches, overcome with emotion as he lets out a sob- "I couldn't save him. My son. My only boy. I couldn't-" He's completely overcome now, sobs wracking his body.

Reeve, Patrick's son, had died in the Games the year that Aoife won. He'd been fifteen and no one had bothered to Volunteer in his place. Patrick had nearly gone mad with the grief as he watched his son get torn apart. He'd begun putting together the pieces for Rebellion then, noticing things he hadn't before in the late night hours when he couldn't sleep, when his insomnia had tortured him to the brink of sanity.

Mary shows up after a few moments, the rims of her eyes red. She and Patrick have been married for years, since they were in their early twenties. She murmurs an apology to Cato and I as she ushers Patrick away. They lean heavily on each other and I want nothing more than to follow and comfort them both. I know better, know they don't want me prying.

"What was that? Is he mad too?"

I shake my head. People from the Capitol would say so; they'd say it about most of us if they watched us all the time. I might have beforehand too, but I know better now. "That was Patrick. He's the oldest, living male Victor here. He had to Mentor his son and he died." My eyes meet Cato's and I grab his hand again, feeling the calluses that have reformed from the hours spent Training the next generation of Careers. "None of us are really mad," I whisper, my mind wandering to the bottle of pills at my house. "We all just have different ways of coping."

* * *

Castalia and I sway gently to the lilting music, moving through the steps we've known from childhood. Everyone in District 4 knows these dances; it's as ingrained into our lives as swimming is. We laugh as the tempo speeds up, our feet struggling to keep pace as we jump and twirl in time.

I grin over at her, so happy to see her letting it all go. It's easy for me to forget that she struggled as much as I did. It couldn't have been easy taking care of our younger siblings, Father for as long as he stuck around, Mother dying and all of the arrangements tied in with that, me in the Arena and out, and the whole time she never quit her job or complained. She just pushed through it all with her signature stubbornness. I'll have to do something nice for her to help compensate.

The song no sooner ends than a new one begins, a bit slower this time. All around me, couples begin forming and I move to make my way off of the dance floor and find at least part of my group. I know Mags is watching Keenan and having the twins check in with her every so often. Cato and Finnick went off to go talk some more and Castalia's dancing with some green-eyed boy.

It looks like I'm hunting for Mags.

A hand grabs mine and twirls me around, I smile before I can help myself, thinking that it's Finnick or maybe even Danny, but my blood turns cold when I see brown eyes instead of sea-green ones. Hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer as that slow, easy smile takes over his face.

"Hey," he says.

"I don't want to dance with you, Aiden."

Ignoring me, he brushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "Of course you do. We used to dance all the time. Remember?"

I suppress a shiver as memories jump forward in my mind. Late nights on the boardwalk on the way home from a party, weddings we were invited to, on the beach as the sun set, bonfires like tonight. Yes, we used to dance all the time.

"Not anymore we don't," I say, giving him a small shove to try and break free, but he turns abruptly and I collide with his chest. "Stop it, Aiden."

He just smirks down at me. "Why? Going to sick your little pet on me?"

"I don't need him to fight my battles for me," I hiss, giving another shove with the same amount of luck.

His arms wrap tighter around me, pushing our bodies closer together. He sends a taunting smile my way. "You aren't putting up much of a fight, little mermaid."

I squirm in his arms, struggling to get out, but, like most men around here, he's been working on a fishing boat and has more upper body strength than I do. Even the anger at him calling me by Cato's nickname doesn't give me the strength to push him off. "Aiden, stop it!"

His mouth opens to retort, but someone else beats him to it. "Let her go." The voice is deep, a low rumble aided in its intimidation by the growl lurking underneath. In my mind, I can picture it. His arms are crossed over his chest, making his bulging biceps more prominent. He has his icy blue eyes narrowed, a deep frown tugging at his face as he stares down my ex-boyfriend.

"Look, man, she wants to dance with me. We have history, don't we, baby?"

I want to puke when he calls me that.

"Something tells me she doesn't."

Aiden's hand wanders a little lower to rest on my lower back, grinning evilly, knowing Cato has to stand there and watch.

A growl is all the warning I get before Aiden's head is flying back, a loud crunch echoing through the now-silent crowd as his nose breaks and blood coats my face. Once again holding back the urge to retch, I shove myself out of his arms and out of the way just as a blonde blur tackles Aiden to the ground.

It only takes a moment before Finnick, Liam, and a couple other guys are pulling Cato off of my bloodied ex. It looks like his nose is broken and he may have a couple teeth missing. The damage Cato can inflict will never cease to amaze me.

"You know what?" Aiden says, spitting blood on the ground right next to my feet and earning another growl from Cato as he struggles to get free. "You can have her. She ain't worth this."

My fist collides with his face before I can stop myself. The punch lands square on his jaw, his now jagged teeth raking across the back of my hand as the rest of his head turns sharply to keep up. There's a wicked crack as his neck snaps and, ignoring the blood and cuts on my hand, I feel my mouth tilting up in a small smile. I've wanted to do that for a long time, long before the Games.

"That's my girl!" I hear Finnick crow in the background. I can just see him jumping up in the air, fist raised to the heavens, a prideful grin on his face.

Slowly, I turn and walk past the boys, murmuring a soft, "Let's go home. I'm tired."

It's impossible to miss the prideful smirk Cato has on his face as he wraps an arm around me and walks with me back towards the house.


	24. Only All the Time

**110 reviews, guys. One hundred _and_ ten. Oh. My. Gosh. I never would have or could have anticipated this. Not only that, but almost 15,000 views in dozens of countries (people in Asia and Africa? Like, what?). Anyway, I just wanted to throw out an especially HUGE thank you to you all. I'm so humbled by all this. Thank you.**

**And a more specific thanks to mangesboy01, Black Hot Devil, mormongirl33, and Guest (Yup, lots of stuff happening in that last one. Hopefully that's not the last wedding I get to write about. :P Thanks for reviewing!) for their wonderful reviews this past week. And for the follows, favorites, and reads.**

**And... I have a poll up. For real this time, I checked my profile, it's there, you can vote, which I highly encourage you all to do. Some people may be on the chopping block. Or they might get more story time.**

* * *

"Snow isn't happy. We were his preferred couple to win, but he still isn't happy. There are riots going on in some of the Districts and general unrest in most of the others. He's anxious, Cato." I sit crosslegged on the blanket behind him and cast him a sideways glance through my eyelashes. We're on a relatively secluded part of the beach, hiding out under the rouse of a family picnic. "That's why I ended up in 2 a couple weeks ago. He was reminding me of my place."

Cato lets out another low growl, his hands balled up into fists as he begins pacing in front of me. "Is there anything else I need to know about? Any other secrets you've been keeping?"

I've told him about the Rebellion, my panic attacks, and President Snow, I even told him about Aiden when he kept asking, but I feel the need to go into more detail about my talk with Snow so he can truly understand how serious this matter is. "He threatened to kill you if I don't behave. You and everyone else."

His eyes meet mine and they're ablaze with anger, a look I distinctly remember from our time in the Arena together. It isn't a good look and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising in warning. "Did he threaten to hurt you?"

The question throws me off-guard, but I shake my head after a moment. He threatened everyone I love, but not me directly.

"Good."

"How is this good, Cato?" I ask, leaping up from the blanket and bits of hair falling out of my bun. "How is any of this good? He has threatened every single person I care about and there's still the looming threat that my younger siblings will have to go through the same hell you and I did. And there's no guarantee that they'll make it. No matter how well-trained they are, no matter how good a mentor I am. That's what happened to Patrick. His son got Reaped and he had to watch him die, completely unable to help him. I don't want that. I don't want to watch one more person die in those horrid Games. They're an abomination." My chest is rising and falling quickly by the end as angry tears pour down my cheeks. Cato makes a move to come forward and hold me, but I wave him off. "I'm not asking you to be a part of this, but I'm doing what I can regardless."

He stares at me for a moment then lets out a sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's why Odair was so big on knowing how I felt about you." He plops back down on the blanket and looks out at the sea where we can see the twins and Keenan playing in the waves. "I'm in," he says softly.

My knees give out as I stare at him. Finnick's spent years trying to convince the Victors from 2 to join in the cause and none of them have ever wavered except for Lyme. The rest have failed to see the problem with the current system, which is so easy to do when you're on top.

"You are?" I whisper.

"Yeah."

I jump on him, my arms wrapping tight around his neck and kisses peppering every inch of his face and neck that I can reach. This is such a weight off of my shoulders, off of the whole Rebellion's shoulders. I really don't know what I'd have done if he hadn't agreed. "Thank you."

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. "It's hard to say no to that."

I giggle and grab his hand, tugging us both up so that we're standing and facing each other. "Let's go swim."

"Is that all you think about?" A smile tugs at his face and I find myself grinning up at him like a small child.

"Only all the time."

He tugs his shirt off over his head, leaving him in just his swimming trunks and I subtly check my mouth for drool as I walk towards the water. I'd almost forgotten how good he looks without a shirt on. If we were on any other part of the beach, we'd have to fight the girls off with a stick. By we, of course, I mean me. Something tells me Cato wouldn't mind the extra female attention.

Suddenly, I'm swept off my feet, my face dangling a few inches away from his back as a small shriek escapes my mouth. "Do you ever think about me, little mermaid?" he asks as he walks closer and closer to the water.

I feel a blush rising on my cheeks. Only all the time. "Mmm," I say, pretending to think as he jostles me, "No. Never. Not even a little bit."

Water fills my vision, getting closer and closer to my face with every step Cato takes. I gulp, knowing he's going to throw me in at any second. The water's colder now, not the nice temperature it was before the Games or even a couple weeks ago. Winter is coming and the water is beginning to reflect that.

"You sure about that?" he asks, smirking at me over his shoulder.

"Why? Do you think about me?" I counter, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Only all the time," he whispers before tossing me out into the water.

* * *

"You are not doing that," he says stubbornly, arms crossed over his chest as he eyes the fifty-foot drop into the water. "You aren't."

"You can't stop me," I say, prancing over to the edge and grinning down at the water. The waves are gently crashing over the rocks below before spilling over into the caves beneath the jagged cliff. "Besides, I've done it a million times."

"Well, you aren't doing it today," he says, tossing me over his shoulder before I can fight him off or even realize what he's doing.

"Oh, is big, bad Cato scared?" I mock, turning to look at him. "Keenan and the twins can't wait till they're old enough to do this and strong, tough Cato won't do it because he's afraid."

"Nicci-"

"Hey, cupcake!" Finnick calls, Liam in tow. "Cato." They nod at each other. "Going cliffdiving today?"

"No," Cato says at the same moment that I say, "Trying."

I glare out at the view of the ocean I'm allowed to see from on top of Cato's shoulder. This is hopeless. I need to speed things up otherwise he'll win… again… and I really want to go cliffdiving. I haven't been able to since I got home and I'd only gone a couple times before I'd been Reaped. This could be my last chance until summer comes round again.

I can hear Finnick letting out a soft "tsk" and the gentle pat of his sandals on the rocks. We meet eyes and his are filled with mirth, mocking me. He knows how badly I want this, how terribly I want to leap over the edge of that cliff into the open air.

"You look upset, cupcake."

"You would be too if you had some hulking brute prohibiting you from doing one of the things you truly love."

Cato chuckles and gives me a jostle, sending stray bits of hair into my eyes.

"Will you at least put me down? I'm not a child."

He puts me down, smirking at me when I send him another glare.

"Ah, young love," Liam mutters, kicking his shoes off. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I came up here to dive." His shirt falls to the ground and he takes off, his body flying over the edge.

Cato leans towards the cliff, trying to catch a glimpse of him. When we hear the splash, he leans back and shakes his head at me. He's still not ok with it.

"Wimp," I hiss. "At least let me go! It's not fair if you don't let me go!"

Finnick moves to stand beside me, his arm resting casually over my shoulders. "The first time's always scary; lots of guys chicken out. I'll jump with her if that'll make things any easier for you."

I could kiss Finnick. Right on the lips. For several hours. This is precisely the push Cato needed. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself. My banter would have just come across as teasing in his mind, but Finnick has jabbed directly at his masculinity, his strength as a Victor from District 2.

His eyes narrow.

It's all over now.

"What do I have to do again?"

The grin that splits my face can't be helped and I don't even bother trying to smother it. I jump forward by his side, taking his large hand in mine. "We'll get a running start and jump as far away from the cliff as we can. It's a bit of a drop, but you want to keep your legs straight for when we hit the water. Then you swim for the surface." My eyes meet his and I send a teasing smile his way. "Don't worry, 2. I'll keep you safe."

He begins marching back towards the road, a determined look on his face. "I'm not worried about me," he says once we're out of Finnick's range of hearing. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. I've been doing this for years. Come on."

We race forward, me flashing Finnick one last grin before we jump out into the open air. I let out a whoop of happiness as the wind whips around me, sending the loose bits of my hair flying over my head. As the water gets closer, I wrap my arms around Cato so that, when we go under, we'll stay together. He smiles, wraps an arm around my waist, and lets out a whoop of his own right before we merge into the ocean.

When we break the surface, I can't help but laugh.

"What'd you think?"

"That was…"

"I find the word exhilarating works pretty well. So does magical, wonderful, ama-"

His lips crash against mine as his hands cradle my head. My arms tighten around his neck, pulling him closer as his tongue brushes against my bottom lip.

We don't stop until water splashes the two of us. "What'd I tell you about kissing my sister, 2?" Finnick glares at the two of us before swimming off towards shore. "Please, keep your pants on."

I giggle and let go of Cato, floating off towards shore as well. The moment's been killed. "You should try doing a flip next time we jump."

* * *

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Another box has arrived from the Capitol. Part of me loves seeing the cardboard sitting on the doorstep, waiting for me to rip it open, but it makes my gut squirm at the same time. There's a sense of guilt that comes with it. The knowledge that Finnick would be disappointed in me if he knew, that they all would be. They think I'm so strong and that I'm coping with things so well, but they're all wrong.

The glass bottle shines in the sunlight and I can see the individual white pills nestled inside. If it weren't for them, I couldn't deal with any of this. I'd be a mess nestled up in my room all the time.

I lift the box up and go to hide it away in the basement until I can get rid of it and put my medicine away, but Cato comes bouncing in with Keenan, both of them smiling at me.

"Whatcha got there, little mermaid?"

I shrug and push the box out of reach on the far counter. "Just came from the Capitol. I'll open it later."

He quirks a blonde eyebrow at me, holding off a comment for now.

"So what've you two been up to?" I say, nibbling my bottom lip as I try to distract them.

Keenan bounces over to me, a grin splitting his tiny face in two. "Cato and I were playing on the beach." He jabs his wooden sword into the air. "We made a fort and fought bad guys!"

"Is that so?"

"And now we're hungry! Feed us, woman!"

I stare down my nose at the three-year-old in front of me. He knows better than to act like that if he wants something. Just as I'm about to scold him, I realize I'm at least partially to blame, I have been letting him hang around Liam, Finnick, and Cato a lot and, while they all have their positive sides, they can all be incredibly sexist. "Would you like to rephrase that?"

He looks down at his feet for a moment, knowing he's done something wrong, and then smiles brightly back up at me. "Can we please have some food, Nicci?"

"I suppose. You have been protecting the house. It's the least I can do." I move over to the island in the middle of the kitchen and pick through the bowl of fruit in the center before finding two beautiful, yellow mangoes. Keenan's eyes go wide. Mangoes are his favorite.

He trails behind me as I cut them up, sucking on the seed and the peel while the meat gets chopped into chunks. Between bites, he tells me about his adventures with Cato and I can't help the huge smile that tugs at my face as he prattles on. It means the world to me that he and Cato get along so well, that Cato's willing to stoop down to Keenan's level and be a child with him. I hadn't thought it would be in him to act like that. It gives me hope for the future.

As I'm putting the diced up fruit in a bowl, there's a growl and I turn, startled, to see Cato with the opened box in front of him. I shove the bowl in my little brother's hands and herd him out the door. "Cato! Come on!" he calls, his big blue eyes staring pleadingly at the older man. "Cato…"

Finally the blonde turns, his face masking the furious tide I know is lurking underneath, and he stalks past me and out onto the porch hissing "later" at me as he goes.

* * *

I let out a sigh, downing two of my pills and loving the instant calm that takes over me. The jar slides easily back into its hiding place on top of the medicine cabinet where Finnick and Castalia will never find it.

He walks into the bathroom, his eyes narrowing as he notices me standing on tiptoe. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I say, falling onto the heels of my feet and smiling sweetly at him. "Come on, let's go to bed." I move back towards the bedroom, but he pushes past me, reaching up and feeling around on top of the medicine cabinet. I watch as his blue eyes widen in the mirror before his hand comes down, my medicine in hand.

He reads along the label for a second, his eyes narrowing and brow furrowing with every word. "These are the same pills that were in that box earlier."

I look past him, out the window at the pitch black garden in Annie's backyard. My teeth gnaw at my bottom lip as I feel Cato's eyes piercing me, but I don't move. I'm frozen in place.

His hand takes hold of my chin, tilting my head until all I can see is his handsome, angry face. "Odair said you weren't taking any medicine. He said you didn't need any medication."

"Don't tell Finnick," I sob, automatically reaching out for the jar to take another pill and calm me back down. I can't have another panic attack. I can't. "He'll be so mad. Don't tell him." He watches me, his gaze calculating but unforgiving. "Give them to me, Cato. I need them."

"No, you don't."

"The doctor said I do!" I screech, a fist pounding against his chest as I lunge for the bottle.

"Nic-"

"No! They're mine! Give them here!"

He puts the bottle on the sink, out of my grasp before carrying me into the bedroom. I flail and kick to try and get away, but it doesn't work, Cato's too strong, and he plops me on the bed a moment later. "What is going on?"

"They help keep the panic attacks away," I whisper, hugging my knees to my chest.

He lets out a cold laugh. "You had a panic attack two days ago. They don't work."

Tears slide down my cheeks. "They have to."

"They don't."

My eyes meet his and the blue softens a bit, but he doesn't budge, standing firmly between me and the bathroom, ready to tackle me to the ground in case I make a mad dash for it. "They do!"

"Babe, no." He moves forward, looking me straight in the eyes. "You take those pills every day?"

I nod, a hand anxiously running through my hair. "Two, three times a day. Like the doctor told me to in the Capitol."

"And they're supposed to keep the panic attacks at bay?"

Another nod.

"But you've had probably a dozen since you got home almost five months ago?"

I glare at him. The medicine works. It keeps the attacks away. Imagine how many I'd have had without the medicine. The medicine helps me stay calm, keeps me sane when I want to fall apart. Cato doesn't understand that those little white pills are the only thing keeping me alive, helping me stay me. He's just like Finnick. Walking around like nothing's wrong, like he knows best. He doesn't though. Neither of them do.

He sits down beside me, taking my face in his hands. "They don't work, Nicaea. They never did."

"You don't understand," I sob. "They have to. I have to believe something will keep them away."

"They don-"

"They have to," I moan, hugging my knees tighter to my chest and burying my face in them. I sound like a child, but he doesn't understand. None of them do. The real reason I've been able to act the way I have is because these pills let me. They keep me calm. Keep me sane.

"Babe," he whispers, crouching down and pulling me into his arms. "Babe." His forehead rests against mine. "This isn't healthy. You have to realize this. The pills aren't working."

"Cato, I need-"

He shushes me. "No. Please stop taking them. You're so strong, you don't need them." Gently, he caresses my cheek, brushing away tears. "You made it through the Hunger Games. You're the reason I made it through. You've helped raise your younger siblings, dealt with your mother dying. You're better than this."

"I did all that because-"

"No," he says, his voice rough. "No, Nicaea. You didn't have the pills before or during the Arena and you don't need them now. Do you even know what's in them?"

This makes me pause for a moment and I shake my head. Does it matter? They're helping me.

"Promise me you'll work on quitting. Please, Nic. Please."

"Ok."

"We'll do it together. I'll help you through this."

I nod again.

"Alright." I watch as he goes and puts the medicine back in its hidden place. "Let's go to bed," he says when he gets back over to me. "We'll talk about this more tomorrow."

I nod in agreement, fully intending not to go to sleep, but to wait him out and hide my medicine somewhere else. Somewhere where no one will find it. Maybe in the basement.

"Goodnight, babe," he says, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing the tip of my nose.

"Goodnight, Cato."


	25. Posy, Prim, Ivy, Finch, and Sparrow

**Ok... I know a lot of you are mad at me for the ending of last chapter... and I'll admit that I'm not happy with it either. It sucks. But it works for a few points later on in the story so just hold tight for a bit. Nothing bad lasts very long in this story, now does it? And her addiction too will come to pass.**

**Thank you to mormongirl33, Miss-Understood (Awesome! I'm so glad you like it. :) And thanks for reviewing.), Guest (I loved the idea of them cliffdiving too. Yes, yes, yes. It was such a fun chapter to write. Give it a few chapters. Thanks for reviewing again. :) ), and mangesboy01 for reviewing. And for the people who voted in the poll. And for the favorites and follows or just sticking around and reading. And (this is the last one) thank you for the private messages, they mean just as much to me.**

**And I'm sorry for the late post. I got super busy yesterday and just couldn't find the time to get on here.**

* * *

A smile tugs at my face as I watch his sleeping form. I can't believe that he's here with me again. Even though it'd only been a couple weeks, it felt like an eternity without him. My mind can't comprehend just how attached I've become to him in the last few months, how huge a part of my life he's become.

I guess it could be said about Finnick as well, but there's something more to what Cato and I have. It runs much deeper than the friendly, brotherly love I have for Finnick. I can see a future for the two of us if everything goes well. Of course, that all hinges on the Rebellion.

Gently, I brush some hair off of his forehead, bending down and placing a kiss there before getting off the bed and wandering over to the window. Sleep hasn't been my friend tonight, even though I took my pills earlier.

Cato doesn't know I'm still taking two of them at a time. He foolishly assumed the only ones I had were in the bottle on top of the cabinet in the bathroom- ones he divided and hid in trios around my house before he left, taking half of them with him. He'd forgotten about the basement though, something I've been eternally grateful for. I don't think I could have survived without the ones I hid.

Outside, the landscape is speeding away, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over the blurry trees. I wonder who lives out there, if anyone, if there are any animals lurking about. It seems so different from everywhere else I've been. Even in the mountains around 2 the forest wasn't this thick.

Does this mean we're near District 7?

I shake my head, knowing better. District 7 is on the other side of the country, hidden in tall redwood forests. We're barreling towards our first stop on the Victory Tour, District 12.

My forehead rests against the cool glass as my eyes slide shut. I'd give anything to skip this stop. I want nothing to do with this District. I know they hate me and want the same. I killed both of their tributes the one time in almost twenty-five years that they'd actually stood a chance of winning. Their hope was destroyed when my trident slid through Katniss, just like President Snow wanted. In their eyes, I'm a monster.

I collapse into the chair by the window, my head falling into my hands as I eye my feet.

It all just feels like it's too much sometimes. Even with Finnick and Cato here to help me along, it just seems like too much. I need a mother at times like this, I realize, but even my surrogate mother's been taken from me. Mags had a heart attack a couple days ago. She's barely begun recovery, but the doctors say she won't be the same once she's better. Finnick's been a mess over it. She's a second mother for him too and the thought of her hurt is just about more than he can cope with. Then you throw in this mess they call a Victory Tour and it's honestly a miracle we made it on the train. The only thing keeping us going is knowing that she'll be ok and that we'll be ok. That everything will be ok in the end.

Cato lets out a groan and my eyes flit to his face. I'm not sure if he's aware, but he has nightmares. I tried asking him about them once while he was staying with me in 4, but he denied it. He doesn't want to admit that the Games got to him too. As someone from 2, it wasn't supposed to have any effect on him, just something he'd spent his whole life training for, just one explosive month in a life full of intensity.

He lets out another groan, twisting a bit on the bed, and I wander over to him, stroking his brow and whispering softly to him.

"It's alright. It's over. We won."

His eyes open suddenly, the blue blurry with sleep. "Babe," he murmurs, pulling me down into his arms and kissing the top of my head, "what're you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," I reply, snuggling into his side.

"Tomorrow'll be ok, don't worry about it."

* * *

Everything's falling apart here in 12, the building behind me looks as though it might collapse in on itself at any moment. The feeling of disuse clings to it, only accentuated by the broken windows, the chipped stones on the corners of the building, and the cracked staircase. The buildings surrounding the Justice Building are just as bad, sagging roofs and peeling paint.

My eyes wander over the crowd as Cato gives his speech. They're falling apart too. All of them seem malnourished and look as though their souls have been crushed.

I can't really focus on them though. I can't focus on anything, not until my eyes land on a little girl in the crowd. She looks to be about the same age as the twins, her hair tied back in little, black pigtails. Her gray eyes are flickering around the stage as shivers wrack her tiny body. She doesn't have a coat, just a ratty old dress and a holey blanket wrapped around her.

I march forward, off the stage, ignoring the hisses from Finnick and Ophelia to get back to where I was. All eyes are on me, but I don't care. I don't care that I'm interrupting or breaking tradition. That poor girl's going to get sick if she doesn't have a coat.

When I get closer, she looks up at me with wide eyes and grasps at what can only be her older brother's hand. My heart literally sinks into the soles of my shoes. Even this little girl thinks I'm a monster.

"It's ok," I say softly, as I tug the warm, black coat off of my shoulders. It's a struggle to keep my face neutral when the wind nips at me through the comparatively thinner shirt I have on. "You looked cold."

The girl simply stares at the coat then at me then at the coat again.

"I promise it won't bite."

She gives a little giggle and takes a step forward.

I toss the coat over her shoulders and button it up with my mittened hands. "There. Better?"

She nods and a small smile lights up her face.

"I'm Nicci. Who're you?"

"Posy," she says softly.

"It's very nice to meet you. Stay warm, love." I cup her cheek and flash her a small smile before going to rejoin the others on stage, but there's a thump as Posy hugs me about the legs. She gives a quick, muffled "thank you" while I stare in stunned amazement down at her, then hurries back to her family. I give a small wave and walk back up to see Finnick shaking his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Cato steps away from the podium and motions for me to step up. Apparently I missed his entire speech. As I pass him, he places his coat over my shoulders before stepping back to stand between Finnick and Brutus. I try to take it off and hand it back to him, but he sends me a look with narrowed eyes and I tug the coat on.

The crowd terrifies me. I forget the speech I had prepared as I look at Katniss and Peeta's families. I can see the young girl who was Katniss' little sister. Prim, the girl who's mockingjay pendant I have tucked into my glove at my wrist. It's because of her that I manage to find some of the right words.

"I know that words will never make up for what you've lost, especially words coming from me. I know that many of you hate me and wish that Katniss and Peeta were standing here instead of me." I nibble my bottom lip for a moment. "I wish I could change that." My eyes meet Prim's and tears come forward, feeling like ice in the freezing wind. "But I can't.

"Katniss was one of the most incredibly talented Tributes that I think has ever walked into an Arena. She was smart and determined and spectacularly good with a bow. With someone like her there, it was a miracle any of us lasted a day." There are faint smiles on some people's face now. "And it was so obvious that she cared about her family." Tears are now flowing down Prim's cheeks so I turn to Peeta's family, at his angry looking mother and defeated father. "Caring is the word I would use to describe Peeta too. He cared about Katniss and I really feel like he cared about staying true to himself, despite being in the Arena. He was strong and we could all take a page out of his book.

"I'm so sorry for everything that you've lost. I hope that someday I can make it up to you."

A loud sob echoes through the microphone speakers when Katniss' little sister holds up her three interior fingers in the same gesture the people in the square did the day she Volunteered.

* * *

An hour later, we're in the rickety Justice Building preparing for dinner with the Mayor and his family. It's too cold here to have it outside with the rest of the town and too precarious here in this building, it makes awful noises and I swear it moves some when the wind blows too hard.

However, I'm not alone now and I'm not getting ready for the party.

I'm talking with Primrose Everdeen.

Or, more accurately, we're sitting in the same room staring at each other.

"I just- I- it was-" This is my third attempt at speaking to her and I'm feeling more embarrassed with each failure. My head rests in my hands as I stare down at the floor. "I don't know what to say. I had a million different conversations in my head this morning and none of them work now that you're here in front of me."

My eyes land on the pin on the vanity a few feet away and I march over to it before kneeling in front of Prim, the piece of jewelry in my hand. "She wanted you to have this."

She lets out a little sob when I set the pin in her hand, nodding as her eyes close. Instinctively, my arms wrap around her and I hold her close, whispering softly in her ear. She hugs me back, her thin body holding onto me tightly, like I'm her lifeline in all this. It's impossible not to join her, tears sliding silently down my face.

When she's done, I wipe away both our tears and take her two hands in one of mine. "I know it won't make up for anything," I say, reaching into my pocket for the bag I'd tucked away earlier, "but I want you to have this. It isn't much, I know, but even that's a lot more than most people have. I knew you'd need it after-" my voice catches and I wave my hand and the words away. "Please take it and take care of your family."

Her eyes widen as she opens the bag and sees the gold coins inside. "I can't take this. You don't-"

I shake my head. "It isn't because I feel like I owe you or I have to. It's because I want to help and this is all I can manage to do at the moment." My eyes wander over to the window, watching the snow swirl down to the ground. "Change is coming though. Keep your chin up."

There's a knock on the door and I open it to see Finnick grinning at me. "Mrs. Everdeen's here for Prim."

The young girl walks over and gives me a hug. "Thank you for this and for what you did for Posy earlier."

I nod. "Goodbye, Prim. Take care of yourself."

She scurries off down the hall, the back of her shirt untucked so it looks like a little duck tail. I smile and lean against Finnick.

"She's a good kid."

Finnick nods. "Galatea's eager to get you ready for the dinner, you know. She's afraid she won't be able to after all the time you spent with little Everdeen."

"It'll be alright, I'm sure. Where is she?"

* * *

The Districts pass in a blur until we get to District 5. Cato and I give speeches with stricter and stricter orders from the Capitol about what we're allowed to say and now Peacekeepers stand between us and the crowd so I can't have contact with anyone. At least not televised contact. After we go back inside of the District's Justice Building, we're allowed to talk with the families if we'd like. I spoke briefly with the girl from 7's family upon their request; her name had been Ivy and she was the only daughter in a family of boys. I cried with her mother for an hour, telling her what I'd told District 12- if there had been a way, I would have gladly shared the stage with her.

Now, I stand before the home District of my dead ally, a simple black dress and a light jacket wrapped tight around me. Galatea had had a soft, silver dress picked out, but I insisted on the black. Like her family, I still miss Finch and I still admire her. It doesn't matter to me what she planned on doing, I know it was her only way to try to survive. I'd have done the same and I respect that.

The crowd stares at me expectantly, but I ignore them, focusing in on the two redheaded women that sit holding each other. They both have the golden-brown eyes that Finch did; it's so obvious that they're all related. Even if they hadn't been placed front and center, I'd have known them.

My speech is short and punctured with pauses where I try to regain control over my voice and make the right words come together, but it doesn't work and eventually Finnick just pulls me off of the podium, muttering a quick apology before dragging me back into the Justice Building.

Almost instantly, Cato's beside me, holding me close. He's become as much my rock in all this as Finnick. How I ever could have doubted that he cared about me is a complete and utter mystery now. Words and oftentimes actions aren't his thing, but when I really need him, he's right beside me, supporting me. I'm not sure I could have handled any of this without him.

He rubs my back and doesn't pull away when my tears soak through his shirt; he just pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head telling me it's almost over. We've hit the halfway mark. It's nearly done.

When he stops I look up to see him staring at someone, I follow his eyes and see Finch's mother. Her eyes are red and I know she's just barely managing not to cry. Especially since she keeps wringing her hands together, waiting for her chance to come forward and talk to me.

I go to her, meeting her halfway and holding her up when she collapses against me in a fit of sobs that shake her incredibly thin body. Eventually, we sink to the floor with tears rolling down our faces and me murmuring apologies to her in an attempt to console her and make up for what happened.

Sparrow, Finch's little sister, joins us too at some point, nestling between us as sobs shake her slender body.

It seems like everyone is a mess.

* * *

Districts 3 and 1 pass in a blur for me. I didn't have any contact with either of them, but Cato seems to struggle with saying good-bye in District 1. Even though they didn't particularly act like it, he and Marvel had become friends in the Arena. Marvel shared his passion for Victory and would have made a worthy adversary in the end, he says, but his voice lacks the conviction he faked in the other districts. Just like me, he's tired and ready to be home. This Tour has taken a toll on all of us, but the end is in sight.


	26. Infuriating Brute & A Headstrong Idiot

**Early post, early post. :) Yay!**

**Thank you to mormongirl33, fangirlingeverysecond, Dreamer (I really want to see your outfits, but I can't figure out the links (I'm a little technologically slow, I'll admit). Thank you so much for the reviews and the outfits.), and Guest (Aww! Don't worry. Nic's strong, she can handle whatever he throws at her! :) Thanks for reviewing!) for the reviews as well as the favorites and follows this week. I had a couple of incredible, crazy days where I had multiple e-mails from here giving me updates on you all. Thank you so much!**

**Also... does anyone know how to get the links in the reviews to work? I've tried everything I can think of and every site tells me the page doesn't exist. :( So if anyone could help there, that would be fantastic... and I could be bribed into posting another chapter if we figured it out!**

* * *

As we pull into the station in the Capitol, I realize just how terribly far away home is. The screaming citizens in their over-the-top, brightly colored outfits are such a strong reminder of that. Even the buildings scream at me that I don't belong here, that I'm a fish out of water, flopping helplessly on the sandy beach.

Cato and I smile and wave at the citizens, my arm looped tightly through his as we exit the train and follow the District 2 escorts into the Training Building where we'll be staying. The citizens reach forward to touch us and shower us with flowers as we go along, but we keep our distance, trying our best to hurry on into the silence waiting for us in the building. Unlike the last time we walked this road, when our lives were on the line, we don't have to win their favor with flattery. We already have it and, as long as we stay together, we always will.

Once our gang reaches the fourth floor, I collapse into the closest of the familiar brown couches, thankful for a chance to escape from the grouchy District 2 people for a while and a bit of privacy. Even on the train it felt like there were people everywhere- watching and analyzing my every move. I smother my face into the soft fabric as I snuggle deep into the cushions. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I can burrow my way through this couch and back home.

Finnick plops down next to me and rubs my back gently, attempting to comfort me. He knows how hard this has been. He's held me when I've cried and dealt with the ups and downs along the way. He knows how bad I want to get home and make sure everyone, especially Mags, is alright. "We're almost done, cupcake."

Giving a noncommittal grunt, I roll over onto my side so I can stare out of the window at the dazzling Capitol. It doesn't hold the same magical appeal it did six months ago, but there's still a sense of awe that fills me whenever I take in the sky-high buildings made of shimmering steel and glass. I wish Zayn were here to see this too.

"When's the party supposed to start, Odair?" My eyes flit to Liam on the other couch. For once he's clean shaven, his hair combed and modeled into a popular yet simple Capitol style, and a suit on instead of the raggedy, old beach clothes he favors at home. It'd be next to impossible to recognize him if it weren't for the signature scowl marring his face.

"It's not until tomorrow, after the next set of interviews with Caesar."

I groan and flop onto my back so I can face Finnick. "More interviews? The one about my talent was awful."

Liam's barking laugh fills the room. "At least the interviewer had the decency to wait until the camera turned to throw up."

Finnick glares. "It wasn't that bad. You did well with the talking. It's just, well, baking isn't your thing."

I snort. "I told you that months ago when you told me it was going to be my talent."

"I thought you could feed starving kids in the other Districts with the food. How was I supposed to know you weren't just being modest?" he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouts, clearly upset his plan fell through.

Liam lets out a low chuckle. "We should have sent them anyway; her cooking would have put them out of their misery."

I growl and throw a pillow at Liam's head, snarling when he bats it away as if it were nothing.

"Better behave, _cupcake_."

I'm about to retort when Finnick cuts in. "Don't antagonize her, Liam."

"She-"

"Just stop." He rubs his temples, a scowl forming on his face while he keeps his sea-green eyes screwed shut.

Liam shuts his mouth and goes back to glowering at the room.

I stick my tongue out at him. Serves him right. His snarky comments are getting on everyone's nerves.

A pillow hits my head and knocks me to the side. I turn to see Finnick eyeing me. "That goes for you too."

I let out a huff and stumble off to my room. I'm tired and I just don't want to deal with any of this anymore. It's time to go for a swim.

* * *

"Thought I might find you here."

I twirl around, clutching the towel closer around me. My eyes land on Cato, sprawled lazily out on a chair by the pool, swimsuit on and blue eyes boring into mine. I flash him a quick smile before walking slowly over to him. "Liam was being annoying and Finnick's upset. I figured this was the best option right now."

He nods and grabs my arm, tugging me down to sit with him. "Brutus and Enobaria won't stop fighting either. Brutus is still pissed you're here and Enobaria wants to use us to start winning over more sponsors for the Quell."

A shiver works up my spine. I'd completely forgotten that this year would be a Quarter Quell, that the first year I would be Mentoring would be when the Arena was more difficult and deadly than normal, when the odds of survival got slimmer with every passing second.

We learned about the Quells in school. They're supposed to be special Games held every twenty-five years and meant to remind us even more of our place beneath the Capitol. I know the first time around people voted for the Tributes and the second time the number of tributes was doubled. I can't imagine what they'll demand as penance this year.

"Hey, you alright?"

My eyes flit up to his face and I force on a smile. "Yeah. I just need to swim and not think for a while."

He nods and I move away from him, leaving the towel by the chair before quickly and smoothly diving into the cool water. Nearly anywhere else in Panem, I wouldn't be able to do this, but here the temperature is regulated so the water is only slightly cooler than I'd prefer.

My muscles strain as I push myself to go faster, my arms slicing through the water with precision as I propel forward. I emerge from the water, immediately relaxing into a floating position on my back. I feel much better now. This is exactly what I needed.

* * *

"There," she says. "Absolutely radiant."

I nod my agreement, my eyes soaking in the image in the mirror. The light pink gown hugs my chest in soft fabric with swirls of beading randomly thrown in before it flows down to the floor in layers upon layers of the fabric. My hair falls in soft curls around my face, framing it and helping my eyes stand out.

Galatea reaches forward and adjusts the pink-stoned necklace at my throat before giving a final nod. "Breathe. Everything will be alright."

Another quick nod.

"Honestly, Nicaea, look at you!" She gestures violently towards the mirror, her long sleeves sliding forward to emphasize the gesture. "Those Capitol people won't care what you say. For what they care the two of you are just a couple of pretty birds that bake and sketch. Breathe. This will be easy."

I shrug and glance back at my reflection. I suppose she's right. They've never really cared before as long as I threw in a few funny quips, Cato was arrogant, and the two of us looked longingly at each other. That's all they want, a good show. Something to entertain them for a few moments.

Finnick strides in, his navy blue suit making his flaming red hair and blue eyes stand out. "About that time," he says, his hands awkwardly stuffed into his pockets.

Galatea nods and shuffles out, mumbling something about making sure Liam isn't dressed in dumpster clothes.

I smile at Finnick and he grins at me.

"Sugar cube?" He pulls out a handful of the things and waggles his eyebrows at me.

My loud laughter fills the room before I snatch one away and pop it into my mouth, enjoying the raw sweetness. "Thanks."

He gives a quick nod before popping a couple in his mouth as well. "You know what to do right?"

"Sit up straight, don't say anything rebellious, flirt with Cato, avoid Rebellion talk, act like a mermaid, vow my love for the Capitol, smile a lot," I say, listing things off on my fingers. "Oh! And don't do anything to upset anybody. Especially making a connection with someone in the crowd."

Finnick smirks, but nods in the affirmative. "If you wanted to be really rebellious though," he says as he guides me out of the room, "you could tell them all that the two of you are working on giving them Victor babies."

I punch him in the shoulder, scowling at him.

"Hey, no fair!" I turn to see Liam glowering at us, Galatea hustling around him to make sure the black suit is up to her normal standard. "I was supposed to get to hit him first. I called dibs." Brutus grumbles next to him, probably staking some older claim to a blow at Finnick.

"You shouldn't have waited," I say, striding past them towards the elevator, jabbing the button to make it go down.

"Don't be like that," Finnick says, snuggling me into his arms. "I'm only trying to help."

It takes everything in me not to laugh at him, especially when I hear someone stomping over.

"No. Mine." An arm tugs at me and I turn to see Cato glowering over my head at Finnick who I know has a ridiculously big grin plastered on his face.

"Not yours," I say, chopping at his hand with my own. "Not anybody's."

He quirks a blonde eyebrow at me then glances down at my hand. "That isn't a very good argument, babe. Really."

"Neither is yours," I say, my eyes zeroing in on his hand as I try to get away.

The elevator dings and we load inside, Cato pulling me towards the back before wrapping me up in a tight embrace and his face lowering closer to mine, blue eyes intense. "The Capitol would disagree with that."

I bite my tongue to hold back a retort that I know could get us all into trouble and just nod.

His face moves away from mine and his hold on me loosens. Slowly and gently he rubs circles into my back and I snuggle into the warmth of his embrace.

"Infuriating brute," I murmur.

A chuckle vibrates through his chest. "Headstrong idiot."

The elevator doors open with another ding before I can reply and we're shuffled out and into black cars that drive us quickly to the plaza where the interview will take place. I watch in silence as the buildings and people pass by. This is becoming a relatively familiar trip, I realize with a small bit of shock as I recognize a few stores and fountains. In a few years I'll probably have the vast majority of this city memorized.

Before I know it, we're seated across from Caesar in his sparkling blue suit and are what I feel should be about half-way through our interview.

"So, the question on everybody's mind, when are you kids going to get married?" he asks, his voice rising at the end to nearly a yell so it can be heard above the crowd. Excitement is written all over his face as he leans in so close to us that he's nearly falling out of his seat.

His eyes flick between the two of us, waiting for a response.

"Well, we haven't talked about anything like that yet, Caesar. It's definitely in the cards though," I say, smiling sweetly up at Cato who has a distinctly dumbfounded look on his face. I give his hand a sharp squeeze and he pulls himself together, smiling down at me. "Don't worry. You'll get an invitation."

Caesar's hands clap together giddily, like a greedy toddler getting whatever he wants. "Excellent. Any idea what kind of wedding you want, Nicaea?"

"I'd love to have a traditional District 4 wedding, but I'm sure it will incorporate parts of weddings from both our districts. I think we'd better move on though." I hide a giggle behind my hand. "Cato looks like he might be sick." He doesn't look normal anyway, there's a distant look in his eyes and it seems like all the blood's drained from his face.

"Not looking to the future much, Cato?"

He shakes his head and my brow furrows slightly. "All I know is that she's my future. As long as I have her, nothing else matters."

A cacophony of "aww"s follows his statement and I lean up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek that earns us another round.

"Aren't they just adorable, folks?"

The resounding yes that comes from the crowd leaves my ears ringing and I smile sweetly out at them.

"Sadly, it's time for them to go. They have a party with the President to attend!"

We all stand and I give Caesar a big hug after he twirls me around so that my dress gets a last once over by the citizens. I plant a quick kiss on his cheek and he waggles his eyebrows while I laugh. He and Cato shake hands, murmuring words I can't hear before laughing.

Cato grabs my hand and the two of us make our way offstage, him waving and smiling, me grinning and blowing kisses at the Citizens.

"All in all, a rather stellar performance, children."

I glance over to see Finnick leaned up against a wall, Brutus and Enobaria standing nearby with scowls in place and arms crossed over their chests.

"They were digging for a proposal though. It was-"

"It was your last shot in the limelight and you blew it!" Enobaria hisses, her eyes zeroed in on Cato. "We told you to propose and you didn't do it."

My eyes are wide and keep flicking from person to person. What?

"Timing wasn't right," Cato says gruffly, tugging a bewildered me down the hall to where another black car is waiting for us.


	27. Be Careful

**Hey, guys, remember that deal I made you at the beginning of the summer? 4 reviews and I'll update? Weeeeell, I'm bringing it back until school starts up! Huzzah for no class!**

**So thank you to EisForElephant, mormongirl33, pretty-pleasee, XxEyelinerHeartsxX, Guest (I love making those moments. So much fun. I love how sweet you make it sound. :) Thank you for reviewing, love!), and mangesboy01 for their wonderful reviews. Thank you for the favorites and follows. Thank you for reading. Thank you for sticking with this. Thank you for the support.**

**I'm gonna go write now. :P Cato and Nic are having snuggle times.**

* * *

"We have one hour," Galatea sighs as she shuffles around me, taking everything off of me. "One hour to transform you."

Gerard, Hera, and Leto nod solemnly before heading off to gather up supplies.

I quirk an eyebrow at Tea. "You make it sound like you didn't just spend three hours getting me ready. Why do I have to change?"

"Because that's how this works."

I sigh, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Ok."

Gerard moves behind me and begins pinning my hair up. It hurts at first as he struggles to work through the curls, but after a moment it smoothes out and goes up easily and relatively quickly. Hera instructs me to close my eyes as she begins adding make-up and Leto works on redoing my nails.

I sit completely still until I feel something cold on my back. Before I can stop myself, I let out a squeak of surprise and jump slightly earning angry looks from all of my stylists. "It was cold and no one warned me," I pout.

"Hold still, Nicaea," Galatea hisses and she continues doing whatever it is she's doing.

Slowly, I fold back into a comatose state, letting my mind wander back through the interview and what Cato said after. Does he really want to get married someday? Would he really have proposed to me in front of all those people?

"Alright. Away with all of you," she says and I know she's waving her hands, shooing the Prep Team away for the second time tonight.

I open my eyes a small fraction only to have Galatea hiss at me. "No, no, no. Keep them closed. We aren't done yet."

She tugs fabric up my body and ties it over my shoulder, general adjustments are made, and she slips my feet into a pair of high heels. I feel her messing with my hair, applying a bit more make-up on my eyes, smearing a gloss over my lips, and tugging bangles onto my wrists. Her presence moves away and I know she's speculating, making sure everything is perfect.

"Alright," she turns me around. "Open them."

I know I should be used to it by now, especially after two weeks of this happening every day, but I can't help but gasp as I take in my reflection. I'm in a plain, white gown made of Galatea's signature soft and flowing fabric. It ties over one shoulder and dips low on the side, exposing my back and clinging just enough in the front to not expose other, more intimate parts of me when I move. It tucks in at the waist before falling down around me, short in the front and long in the back. My eye make-up forms a subtle rainbow and my lips look slick. My hair's pinned back in a curling, twisting mess on the back of my head, pins spread throughout that sparkle with a myriad of jewels.

"Turn around," she whispers, just barely hiding the glee in it.

I do and fight back a gasp. My exposed shoulder is coated in soft, wispy rainbow colors. It doesn't look real and I reach back to touch it, but Galatea slaps my hand down to my side.

"It isn't dry yet. About another minute should do it."

I nod, completely mute, my eyes staring at the image behind me. "Is it... is it... permanent?" I whisper with a small amount of horror. Colored skin may be normal here and may look nice with this one outfit, but I can't go home with it.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. "Of course not. It's paint. It'll come off in the shower."

I nod again, still too in awe of it all to form words.

"Well, do you like it?"

"Yes. It's beautiful, Tea. Thank you."

She nods. "Of course, dear. Now let's go. We have about five minutes and I need to make sure your scroungy mentors are presentable."

I giggle and follow her out of the room, my heels clicking softly on the hardwood in the hallway.

"There she is," Finnick crows, grinning at me from his seat on the couch. He's in the same suit as earlier, looking just as polished and attractive. Liam, on the other hand, has managed to ruffle his suit and has knocked his bow tie askew. It also looks like there may be a stain on his shirt.

As quick as the blink of an eye, Galatea's shoe flies across the room with deadly aim. "Liam!" she screeches. "What did I tell you?"

Liam is bent forward, cradling his stomach where the heel hit him.

"Get up!" she demands and Liam struggles to do so. "Finnick, Nicaea, get downstairs. Liam and I will meet you there when we're done here."

My mentor and I all but dive for the elevator as we hear her begin tearing into Liam and lecturing him.

After the doors slide shut we burst into a fit of giggles. "What did he do?"

"Had a couple glasses of wine more than he should have and tripped."

I roll my eyes. It's his own fault then.

"You look nice again though," he says, twirling me around. "What's on your back?"

"Paint. Isn't it neat?" I grin at him over my shoulder and see him nodding.

The doors ding open on the ground floor to District 2 waiting for us. Enobaria and Brutus haven't changed from their sleek, black outfits, but Cato's now dressed in a white suit with a black bowtie. He smirks when he sees me and wraps an arm around my waist, planting a quick kiss on the top of my head as he murmurs to me how beautiful I look.

"Where's Liam?" Brutus asks, his gruff voice sounding more upset than usual.

"He wasn't presentable. Galatea's fixing him up real quick, then they'll be down. We're free to go ahead if you'd like," Finnick says. Even though I could have said it, I don't. Finnick's instructed me to say as little to Brutus as possible, which is an order I have no trouble following. I care for him about as much as he cares for me, which is none, and every time I open my mouth around him it just seems to irritate him.

After a couple minutes of awkward silence, the elevator doors open and Liam, Galatea, and the Prep Team step out, all of them polished to perfection.

* * *

I laugh at the ridiculously dressed man's joke, turning to hide my face in Cato's arm as I struggle to breathe. He smiles down at me before turning back to the conversation he was having with another Capitol man.

"At any rate, my dear, I must get going. Lots of planning to do."

"Planning?" I ask softly, leaning forward to hear him better over the orchestra playing from above.

"For the Games!" he bellows. "I'm Head Gamemaker. Didn't I mention that?"

"No." A sweet smile comes on my face.

"Yes, yes. Big meeting here in about an hour. And I still need to pay my compliments to the President." He strokes his thick beard and looks around. His stomach is so rounded out that I have to move back so he won't bump into me. He casts another glance at his pocketwatch, a mockingjay appearing in the glass when his finger passes over it. "Well, Miss Cosgrove, I'll be seeing you at the Quell."

"I'll see you then, Mr..."

"Plutarch. Plutarch Heavensbee." He claps Cato on the shoulder as he makes his way past us. "Evening, Mr. Hadley."

Cato murmurs a goodbye and makes a few excuses to the women pressing closer in on him before herding me out onto the dancefloor.

"It's beautiful here," I say. The President's mansion is extravagant beyond belief, but extraordinarily beautiful. The ceilings reach up to the sky, golden buttresses supporting it all over the place. Windows stand tall and open, some opening to little balconies, others opening out to the beautiful gardens that encircle the building. Peppered throughout the huge hall are tables laden with food and dozens of armchairs and settees which the citizens lucky enough to be here are lounging on. And that's just this one room. It's impossible to know the innumerable luxuries hidden in the other rooms of the mansion.

Cato's arm snakes tighter around my waist when a couple men walk by and he lets out a low growl when they stare at me for too long.

"Hey," I say, drawing his attention back on to me. My brow furrows, debating on whether I should ask.

"What, Nic?" He twirls me around and I can't help but giggle.

"Do you really want to get married someday?"

He gives a shrug. "You're the only person I've ever felt this way about and I can't imagine a life without you in it."

I snuggle in close to him to hide the smile that stretches across my face.

"But Keenan's the real reason."

I playfully smack his chest, a pout forming on my face as I pull away. "Everyone likes him better."

"It's because he's cuter." He's smirking down at me.

"He is that."

"And better company."

"That's tru-"

"Excuse me."

My eyes go wide as my blood turns cold. Instinctively, Cato's hand digs into my side, fighting the urge to shove me behind him even as I turn around to face the President. He has on his signature suit with its rose tucked into the lapel and a black cane that he's leaning heavily upon.

"President Snow." I incline my head and I hear Cato parroting my words.

"I was wondering if I might steal a dance?"

Knowing we can't refuse, I pat Cato's hand and shoot him a quick smile. Everything will be alright, I try to communicate with my eyes. He can't do anything to me here except step on my feet.

Reluctantly, he nods and stalks off to go mingle with some more potential Sponsors.

Snow places his hand lightly on my waist, the one with the cane rests on my shoulder, and we awkwardly sway back and forth for a moment before he stops us and signals for me to follow him. I nibble my bottom lip and look over to try and find Cato or Finnick or Liam, even Brutus would suffice at this point. I just want someone to know where I'm going, but I can't see any of them so I reluctantly follow the President up a hidden flight of stairs and into what appears to be an office.

He staggers over to a window made of green glass that shows the dance floor below, not bothering to offer me a seat or acknowledge that I've followed him.

"Miss Cosgrove, about a month ago, I asked you to remember your duties to the Capitol. I told you to stay away from Finnick Odair and to put all of your being into making Cato Hadley fall in love with you."

I nod, glancing away from him in small intervals to take in the luxurious room. It has bookshelves from floor to ceiling, rich curtains hanging from a window opposite me, a large ornate desk with what looks like gold adornments on it. Even the pens scattered across the desk look to cost enough to feed the average family for a month.

"Despite my original beliefs, you have not been a complete failure. For the second time, I have underestimated you." A deep frown tugs at his face. "I selected your partner as the winner of the 74th Games from the beginning. I knew that Katniss Everdeen would put up a good fight, but I never anticipated you. You flew completely under the radar."

I feel a small amount of pride swell up in my chest at that thought.

"Even that stunt in the original Interviews, I only saw it as a desperate attempt to garner some attention. A small hope to gain Sponsors so you could go home to your family." He strokes his chin almost thoughtfully for a moment. "As you well know, Rebellion is stirring and the last thing I need is you spurring it on." His cold, dead eyes meet mine. "Can I count on your compliance, Miss Cosgrove? Or do I need to remind you of your place again?"

I shake my head mutely, a trickle of terror working its way into my mind at the thought. "I won't intentionally cause any trouble, sir."

"Good." He nods to someone behind me. "Take her back to the party."

I turn to see a Peacekeeper making his way towards me. He grasps my arm tightly and begins tugging me out of the room.

"It would be a shame if anything were to happen to that little boy, Nicaea. Would you ever be able to move past it?"

The combination of my name coming out vile and twisted from his lips and the direct threat to Keenan makes me feel sick, but it causes another feeling to rise up. One of defiance. Defiance is my enemy though, working with Snow requires compliance. At least for the time being. I can't risk the people I love.

Barely a step out of the room, Snow calls out to me again. "Are the morphling pills working for the panic attacks? I can have the doctor up your dosage."

With another wicked twist to my stomach, I let the Peacekeeper herd me down the stairs without a word. They were all right. Those pills were bad. I have to stop taking them. Now.

"Are you alright?"

I turn to see an elderly woman seated on a settee. She's dressed relatively normally, her hair swept back to resemble a swan is the weirdest thing about her, which, compared to some of the people dancing nearby, isn't so weird.

"Yes. Just a little rattled," I answer honestly.

She nods and gives a sympathetic tut. "He tends to have that effect."

"How did you-"

"Shh," she says softly, raising a delicate finger to her red lips before pointing it across the ballroom. "He's over there, dear. I'm a little afraid that, if he doesn't find you soon, he might tear the room apart trying to locate you."

My eyes follow the direction of her finger. Cato is staring over the tops of people's heads, his hands clasped into fists at his sides and an angry, determined look on his face. "He might," I murmur. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," she says, rising from the chair. "I look forward to working with you in the summer, Nicaea. Enjoy the evening."

With a furrowed brow, I turn around to question her, but she's disappeared, melting into the crowd of eager faces that are slowly circling in closer and closer. It's amazing how quickly I make it across the hall and into Cato's arms.

"Where were you?" he whispers, an arm possessively wrapped around me, keeping me glued to his side.

"President Snow wanted to talk," I whisper, standing up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek that has some of the surrounding guests "aww"ing.

Cato stiffens and I hug him closer, trying to send him a reassuring smile. Let him know it's all going to be ok. I hope I'm a good enough actress to pull it off.

* * *

"Do you think they'll like me?" I ask nervously. I nibble my lip as I stare out the window at the large mountains getting closer and closer. The sound of the brakes slowing the train down seem so loud. Why haven't I ever noticed them before?

"Of course they will."

"Are you sure? What if they don't?" I turn to stare wide-eyed at him. "What if they hate me? What if they want you to settle down with some nice District 2 girl? What if they think I'm beneath you? That you could do bett-"

He cuts me off with a kiss. "Then they would be wrong."

"Here we go. Showtime," Finnick says as he enters the room, the other three mentors on his tail. "Nice dress, cupcake."

I glance down at the bright red dress Galatea's put me in. It is pretty. Fitted at the top then layers and layers of ruffles all the way down to the floor. Even the white, fur shawl I have wrapped around my shoulders is pretty, but I know it won't keep me warm enough as we hurry across town to the Justice Building where a big party is going to be held. Nope. I'm going to freeze.

"Ready?" Cato whispers.

I shake my head, swallowing the bile that's risen up in my throat. Nothing in the world could prepare me for meeting his family.

* * *

"Nicaea!" An older woman with beautifully braided blonde hair comes rushing towards us, enveloping me in a hug. I awkwardly pat her on the back, sending Cato a pleading look for some sort of explanation only receive a half-smirk. The woman leans back and I can see her face with sparkling blue eyes the same shape as Cato's. "I've been dying to meet you, dear, but Cato's been keeping you all to himself." After another heartbeat of silence where she just stands there soaking me in she adds, "I'm Opal, Cato's mother."

"It's nice to finally meet you," I say, smiling sweetly at her as a bit of relief fills me. At least I know who she is now.

She loops her arm through mine and begins leading me across the hall, prattling away in my ear about the weather and weddings. I cast a fearful glance at Cato. Where are we going?

He just sends me the same infuriating smirk.

"Nicaea, this is my husband, Tiberius." I turn to see a tall man in his late or possibly mid-fifties with cropped brown hair, blue eyes, and a scowl that would make Liam envious. "And this is Titus." Next to him is an even taller male, about Cato's height with the same blonde hair and blue eyes. I smile politely at him and he sends a smile and wink my way. "Sadly Eve and Penelope had to stay in 5. Cassius couldn't make it either."

I'd almost forgotten Cato's brothers and father were Peacekeepers. It's hard to imagine smiling Titus in the unidentifiable white attire of a Peacekeeper, beating people down for disobedience, but it's impossible to really judge based on the five seconds that I've known him. That said, I can easily see Tiberius doing it. There's an aura about him that says he won't tolerate rebellion in others and would be more than willing to beat it out of people. It makes me fidget uncomfortably.

"Cas is always busy. I haven't seen him since his wedding," Titus says, his voice is a deep rumble and somewhat similar to Cato's in a way only family can manage.

"He works too much," Opal says, clicking her tongue. "I'd still hoped he could manage this though."

"He's probably just bitter."

My brows furrow slightly. Why? Shouldn't he be happy that his younger brother's a Victor and didn't die in the Hunger Games?

Titus notes my face and throws out, "He wanted to Volunteer too, but he got beat to it."

"That's no excuse." Opal's face is drawn tight and her arm tightens on mine. "No excuse at all. This is about Cato and his success."

I suck my bottom lip in and begin nibbling on it. I don't know what to say. It isn't my place to give my opinion on their family issues. I'm honestly surprised they're discussing this so openly in front of me.

"Of course not, mother. Everyone should have shown up for ickle-Cato's big day." I can't help giggling under my breath when Titus leans forward and pinches Cato's cheek, making baby faces at him.

"Excuse me, excuse me." I turn with a bit of shock to see Finnick poking his head into the awkward circle we've formed. "Hello there." He flashes a smile at everyone as he loops an arm through my free one. "Just need to steal Nicci here for a moment." He casts his sea-green eyes up at Cato. "You can come too."

Opal releases my arm and I give a small wave as Finnick hauls me off. "It was nice meeting all of you."

"Biggest lie ever," Finnick mutters under his breath so only I can hear.

I pinch his arm and send him a scolding look.

With a roll of his eyes he leads Cato and I into a small, empty antechamber.

"Alright."

I quirk an eyebrow at him and move to stand beside Cato. "What?"

"We're skipping the rest of the party and leaving in an hour."

"What? Why?" Cato sounds livid and I don't blame him. This huge party here certainly isn't for me and my benefit. This is all for him, yet another one of the things he's been looking forward to from a young age, another moment to shine in the spotlight.

"Something has come up and we need to get back as soon as possible."

"Finnick, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

He bites his lip for a moment then turns to me, his ocean-colored eyes misting up with tears. "Mags is finally able to take visitors."

With a cry of delight, I rush into his arms, holding him tight. "That's wonderful, Finn!"

I can feel him nodding and the cool feeling of tears on my shoulder. He'd been so worried she wouldn't pull through it, that he'd have to face the loss of another mother, another person he cared about.

"It's all going to be alright," I breathe, rubbing his back gently. When the tears stop, I turn to look at Cato. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go with him." I grasp his hands and send him a small smile. "I have to go back and see her. You stay and enjoy the party and I'll see you in a couple days in 4."

He nods and I snuggle into his chest when I hear the door close as Finnick slips outside.

"Enjoy all of this. It's all for you, golden boy."

He nods again, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "Be careful."

"I will."

"I mean it."

"I will."

"No flirting with Odair while I'm gone."

I roll my eyes.

"Or that other guy."

"Liam?" I ask, my nose curling up.

"Yeah."

"Only if you promise not to flirt with Enobaria."

He makes a face.

"Exactly," I say, tugging him down to plant a kiss on his lips. "You behave and I'll behave."

Instead of a response, he begins nuzzling and kissing my neck. "Oh, stop it." My voice lacks conviction though and he keeps doing it, wandering further up my neck. "I said behave," I whisper, resting my forehead against his as he pulls my body flush to him.

"I am. I haven't done anything wrong," he whispers huskily.

I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to stay here in this closet with him. "I need to get going. Tell your family I'm sorry, but that something came up back home."

"I will." He leans away from me, his hands resting idly on my hips.

"Thank you." I stand up on my tiptoes and give him another quick kiss on the lips. "I love you."

He presses me closer, kissing me again. "I love you too, babe."

* * *

"What are you doing back so soon? We weren't expecting you here until tomorrow evening," she says, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

"Patrick called and said Mags was able to take visitors tomorrow morning. So naturally, we had to load up and head straight here."

Castalia sends me a knowing smile.

"It took everything Liam and I had in us to keep Finnick from running to Mags' house right now. Even when we told him she'd be asleep." A small yawn escapes me and I tug a blanket off of the back of the couch and throw it over me. "You should go back to bed, Cassie. I'm going to sleep right here."

She nods and wearily gets back up, heading to her room. "See you in the morning, Nicci."

"Night." With a small groan, I get up too, heading back down the hallway to the phone by the kitchen. My fingers dial the number without much effort put forth from my mind and I lean heavily against the wall as the phone rings on the other end.

"Hello?" He sounds just as tired as me. I hope he hadn't just fallen asleep. I'd feel awful if he had.

"Just wanted to let you know we made it." I end is punctuated with a huge yawn.

"Thanks, babe."

"Party go ok?"

"Yup."

"Good," I whisper, slowly sliding down the wall.

"Go to bed, Nic. We'll talk tomorrow when I get there."

"Okie-doke. Night, Cato."

"Night, babe."

The conversation ends with a click and I stumble back down the hall to the couch, feeling more exhausted than ever. I collapse on it and blindly reach for the blanket, tugging it over my head and drifting off into oblivion without another thought.


	28. Free

**Hee-hee. Here we go again, as promised. :)**

**Thank you for the favorites and follows and for reading. Thank you to pretty-pleasee, Tess (Aww. Thank you! :) I'm glad you liked it. Heeere it is! Hope you like it too!), XxEyelinerHeartsxX, and Guest (Thank you, love. :) I like it a lot too.) for their lovely reviews. Thanks for hanging out and sticking around. :P **

* * *

"You're back! You're back! You're back!" The phrase is punctuated by small feet colliding with my back, side, and legs as Keenan jumps eagerly on the couch.

I blink blearily up at him, trying to wake myself up enough to get him to stop jumping. "Mhmm. We came back early." My arm swipes at him, trying to knock him down so I can snuggle him and go back to sleep, but he jumps away, grinning evilly down at me.

"Come on, Nicaea," he says, pouncing on me. "Castalia's making biscuits, then we can go play."

"Not right now, sweetheart. I need to sleep," I murmur, burying my face into the couch cushion.

"Nicci!" Another body collides with mine, knocking the air out of me. "Up, up, cupcake!"

"No," I moan clawing at the arm of the couch in an attempt to get out from under them.

"Yes!" Finnick and Keenan exclaim, Keenan jumping down on the couch again for emphasis.

"Come on. Mags'll be up soon," Finnick says and I turn enough to see him looking down at me with big, sad sea-green eyes, his lower lip is even stuck out. He reeks of patheticness and manages to evoke more sympathy with that one look than I could with an entire, lifelong sob story.

"You don't need me to go see her."

"They won't let us go one at a time. The doctor wants all the non-familial visitors to see her now rather than later. So if you're going, you need to get around. We're all going at 10:00." He gets up and pops his back while I glance over at the mantle to see that it's 8:30 now.

"Alright, I'm moving," I say, pulling myself up and rubbing my eyes.

"Good. Cassie says breakfast'll be up in twenty minutes." Finnick wanders off down the hall where I can hear him talking to my sisters, Lara and Lilaea giggling up a storm.

"Can I go see Mags too?"

I look down to see Keenan sitting crosslegged on the couch beside me, his big blue eyes watching me closely. "Of course you can," I say, wrapping him up in my arms and kissing the top of his head. I wouldn't dream of denying him a chance of seeing her. She's become as important to him as she has to me. "You have to be good though. She's sick and she won't be able to handle you jumping on her or anything."

He nods quickly.

"Alright." I plop him down on the ground and stand up beside him. "Go get some breakfast. I'll be down after my shower."

* * *

"I'm the best diver in the class," Lara says, beaming down the table at Finnick and I. "Danny says so himself."

"That's wonderful, sweetheart. How're things going for you, Lily?" I say, glancing over at Lilaea.

She shrugs. "I'm alright at diving, but I'm best at making nets."

"Nets are where it's at," Finnick says, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth. "That's how I won." He nods in my direction. "Nets kept cupcake here alive too."

I nod, remembering catching fish those last few days in the Cornucopia.

"Is Cato coming here too?"

My eyes flick over to Keenan. He's practically jumping up and down in his seat, a crumbly, jelly-covered biscuit dangling from his hand. "He'll be here later tonight." His little fist pumps the air. "He won't be able to play tonight though. This is the last stop on the Tour and we have things to do."

"Do you know what-"

"Your dress looks like?"

I shake my head, stuffing a bite of buttery biscuit into my mouth. "You know, Finnick?"

He shakes his head as well. "Galatea likes to keep it a surprise. I don't even think the Prep Team knows until you step out of the room."

"The dress last night was beautiful," Castalia says and I nod. "I never would have imagined you in red, but it worked."

"It's almost ten," Finnick says, abruptly standing up. "I'll go get the others and meet you there."

He all but runs out the door and I watch him go before turning to face my family. "Who wants to go with?"

"We have to be at the Academy," the twins say and I nod. They'll be in trouble if they skip. Mags isn't actually family so there's no excuse in the eyes of the upper level instructors.

"I have work," Castalia murmurs and my face falls. She has to work such crazy shifts and she works way too hard.

"I'm sorry," I say, a frown tugging at my face.

"We need to go," Keenan says, tugging at the hem of my shirt. "I wanna see Mags."

"We're going, we're going." I grab his hand and lead him out to the boardwalk, waving at and wishing the girls a good day as we go.

The sun shines brilliantly down on us as Keenan skips ahead, then comes back to grab my hand and tug on it to lead me to Mags' house at a quicker pace. He's so eager to see her and I know he's going to be so disappointed when he sees she isn't the same anymore.

I plop down on the boardwalk so we're on the same level and he lets out a frustrated groan. "Nicci, we have to hurry!"

"Honey," I say, cupping his cheek so he'll look at me and not down the road to Mags'. "I just want you to know that Mags isn't going to be the same. She's been really sick. She isn't going to talk or be able to move much. She'll probably even fall asleep while we're there. You're going to have to be quiet and very gentle around her."

He nods, blonde hair bobbing up and down.

"Promise me you'll be good, ok?"

"I promise. Now come on!" He grabs my hand and tugs me forward again. I get up and he hunkers down a bit, letting me go. "I'll race you!" Then he takes off, his short, little legs working to propel him down the path. When Patrick shows up a moment later and continues racing him, he lets out a small squeal, picking up his pace.

When I catch up with them, they're both sitting on Mags' porch talking.

"She says Mags has been sick," Keenan's telling him, big blue eyes trained on him. "So we have to be quiet."

Patrick nods. "She's right. Loud noises might scare her."

"It's time," Finnick calls, popping his head out the front door.

Silently, we all make our way down the hall to Mags' room. A line of Victors seeking to comfort the oldest in our group.

When I catch sight of her it takes everything in me not to break down crying and I clutch at Keenan's small hand. Her long, silvery hair is stringy and looks like it hasn't been washed since she had the heart attack. She looks so frail, her cheeks sunken in and her skin practically hanging off of her. It's as if the life of her has been sucked out.

The dark air is heavy with the scent of body odor and cleaning supplies so I work on breathing through my mouth.

Despite this, Mags smiles warmly at us when we enter and accepts a quick hug from each of us individually. I have to wipe tears from my eyes when I see the proud, maternal look on her face when she holds Finnick and Liam close.

"How're you feeling?" Finnick asks, sitting on the edge of her bed so he can hold her hand.

Her answer comes out as a garbled mess, but she waves her hand a bit. So-so.

Annie lets out a small sob and I grab her hand, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze. It's alright. Keenan hugs my leg, nestling himself between the two of us, his eyes trained on Mags. I pat his head and try to smile at him, but it doesn't work.

"The doctor says you're eating more. That's good."

She nods, gesturing to a tray at the foot of the bed with the remnants of her breakfast.

"Did you catch any of the Victory Tour? Wasn't Nicci beautiful?"

Her eyes move over to me and she nods, a hand resting on her heart. It's a simple action, but it means the world. Yes, she saw me. Yes, I was beautiful. Yes, she's proud of me.

I wipe stray tears from my eyes as she turns back to Finnick.

"The party's tonight. I wish you could be there."

We all nod.

Slowly, Mags moves forward and touches Finnick's chest, right over his heart. She will be there, with all of us, in our hearts.

Annie lets out another small sob and I turn to see tears cascading down her face. I should get her out of here. It's too much.

My arm gently wraps around her shoulders. "We're going to go out in the hall for a minute," I say, excusing us from the room.

The three of us make our way to the kitchen where Maggie and her aunt are making some tea.

"I was wondering if you were goin' ta show up," Maggie says, handing me a mug of the warm liquid, which I quickly pass to Annie who's nestled herself into a kitchen chair. She just sits there holding it though, her eyes trained on the bit of ocean that can be seen from the kitchen window, tears sliding off her cheeks and into the cup.

"Drink up," I whisper, crouching beside her as I rub her back. "It'll make you feel better."

She nods mutely and takes a couple small sips.

I turn to look at Keenan only to see big tears rolling from his eyes. "Come here," I murmur soothingly, scooping him up in my arms and holding him close. His arms wrap around my neck and hot tears wet my shirt as he lets out a shuddering sob. I rub his back and rock back and forth, just like I did when he was a baby. "It's alright. She's alright. Everything's ok."

By the time Keenan's all cried out, the others are filing out of the room. Aoife and Liam leave without a word, but Patrick and Finnick stay.

With a small, watery smile my way, Finnick moves to scoop Annie up in his arms and she clings to him, a sob wracking her body. "Thank you for letting us come see her," he says, eyeing the two McCulloch women in the kitchen. "It means a lot."

Maggie's aunt rests a hand on Finnick's cheek. "You're as much her child as I am. You come whenever you like." She looks around at the rest of us. "All of you."

Finnick nods and leaves with Annie, Patrick following behind them. "Thank you," I say, hugging Mags' daughter. I turn to Maggie, hugging her even tighter. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't miss your party for the world. I get a dance with Victor boy, right?"

I laugh with a nod before giving her another quick hug. "Later, Maggie."

* * *

With a twirl and a giggle, I land against Cato's chest. His arm wraps loosely around my waist and he smiles down at me. All around us other couples are dancing as well, keeping time with the upbeat rhythm put out by the band. The simple dance we have going on is nothing compared to what the others have, but it's all Cato can do. He isn't much of a dancer, apparently they don't worry about that sort of thing too much in 2. Not that it matters. I'd dance like this with him all day.

"How was she?" he asks.

"Worse than I thought. She looked so weak. It was almost like she wasn't even the same person. She can't talk. It's just a garbled mess."

His brow furrows and he shakes his head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, babe."

"Me too," I whisper, my head resting on his chest.

"May I cut in?"

I glance over my shoulder to see Maggie grinning at me, a subdued Danny at her side shaking his head. I giggle and glance up at Cato. "Looks like you're in high demand. Come on, Danny. There's some chocolate cake I want to try." I loop my arm through Danny's and send Maggie a wink before heading off to the table further down the beach that's laden with desserts.

"I'm glad you didn't want to dance," Danny says, plopping down at a nearby table with a plate of cake and cookies in hand. "I told Maggie I didn't want to and that you'd let her dance with Cato."

"I know about your two left feet and it's hard enough walking in these things," I say, gesturing dramatically to the high heels Galatea strapped me into. I've gotten to the point where I can walk in her heels pretty well, but my feet still ache and swell a bit after a take them off.

He laughs and I grin at him before taking a bite of the cake. It's amazing, but not what I was expecting. It's not simple like the ones we normally have here. It's a Capitol creation with multiple kinds of chocolate and a rich, thick frosting. It's too rich for me to eat it all. With a sigh, I set the cake down and watch the dancefloor.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm just so tired, Danny."

His green eyes meet mine and he nods in understanding. "You're free after tonight though, right?"

I nod. After tonight, I'm going to be free from the Capitol in more ways than one. Not that anyone besides Cato knows about that. "It'll be nice to do whatever I want again."

"Going to come back and work at the Academy?"

"I think so. You're still going to be there, right?"

"Yup," he says through a mouthful of cake.

I toss a napkin at him and laugh. "No manners whatsoever."

"I'm not the one who left my boyfriend alone with Maggie McCulloch."

My eyes flit back to the dancefloor where it looks like Maggie's interrogating Cato as they dance in small circles. Danny's right, that probably wasn't the best thing to do, even if I promised. "He'll be alright. He's tough. He survived the Hunger Games, ya know. The odds are clearly in his favor." My voice takes on the ridiculous Capitol accent and we both share a small laugh.

Danny stacks our plates and eats the rest of my cake while I twiddle with my fork, my eyes occasionally straying to look at the couples in front of us and ocean off to the left, but I always end up with my eyes zeroed in on Cato who's currently laughing at something Maggie's said.

The tempo of the music changes and Danny stands up, popping his knuckles before extending a hand to me. "Care to dance?"

I smile and nod, dusting crumbs from my lap before taking his hand and twirling into the mix of other dancers. Danny's hand is light on my side as he guides us between couples until we're dancing next to Cato and Maggie.

With a glare, Cato eyes Danny's hand and I can't help but roll my eyes. If his hand were any higher up he'd be in a whole different sort of danger. Danny gives a soft chuckle and moves a little further away from me.

As soon as the song ends, I'm swept out of Danny's arms and into Cato's. I give a small wave at my friends as Cato leads me off of the stage, his hand resting on my lower back. Maggie giggles and blows a kiss at me while Danny just rolls his eyes.

Once we're a little ways from the party, Cato stops and slumps down on the sand. I settle in beside him, snuggling into his side as a cool breeze from the ocean sweeps in. His arm snakes around my waist and he plants a quick kiss on top of my head before he goes back to looking at the black water before us.

"You're sure you want to do this?"

I nod. "It has to happen."

"We can go to 2. I'll-"

"No, Cato. I have to do this without you."

"Nic-"

"No. I don't want you to see me like that." My arms wrap around myself, hugging and attempting to comfort. "It'll be ok. I promise."

"You don't have to lie to me."

I move to face him. A leg on either side of his waist and my hands resting on his shoulders as I look him in the eye. "I'm not. It will be ok. All of it." My hand reaches up and strokes his cheek. "This has to happen. It's for the best."

He nods and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close and inhaling the smell of my hair. "I'm going with you."

I pull away and glare at him. "No, you aren't."

"Nic, how am I supposed to protect you if you keep running off and-"

"You don't have to protect me. Not nearly as much as you think you do." I can't help but smirk a bit. "In case you forgot, I'm the one who protected you in the Arena."

"All the more reason to make it up to you," he breathes, his breath ghosting across my face as he leans forward. His knuckles run along my jawline and I can't help but shudder. "Come on, it's almost time."

When we stand, he puts his jacket over my shoulders and holds me close to his side, keeping me as warm as possible in the shorter dress Galatea put me in. Slowly, we make our way through the sandy beach and across the dark, empty town. The sounds of music and the party echo back, but we keep going. None of that matters.

We make our way down to the harbor where all the ships are currently docked. All but one.

"You're sure that'll get you there?" He looks skeptical as he inspects the small boat.

I nod silently. "I'll be there by morning."

He steps on board and helps me jump on deck, catching me when I trip in the high heels. His eyes turn to the ship's captain- an older man with grizzly hair and scars on his face- and a deep scowl takes over his handsome features. "Nic," he whispers, but I shake my head to silence him.

"I'll be ok."

He gives a resigned, defeated nod. "I love you," he says, kissing me gently on the lips as he scoops me into his arms.

"I love you too," I whisper, my forehead resting against his. "It won't be for long though. I promise."

He nods at me, then sends a quick nod to the captain before hopping off the ship. "Be careful," he mouths as the ship pulls away from the dock. "I love you."


	29. Hell & Healing

**I'm sorry this is a little late, my lovelies. I was out shopping/at a concert Saturday and I helped my best friend move Sunday. So I've been a busy girl. But here's the next chapter. I hope you guys like it.**

**The next chapter isn't done yet... it's being difficult, but I'm working on it. So, fingers crossed!**

**Thank you for the follows and favorites. And thank you Grace (Thank you for reviewing and those super kind words! :) Yeah... but the Mags bit was kinda necessary. I don't like it either. Hopefully it'll all make sense after this chapter.), TheNellisTrain, mangesboy01, pretty-pleasee, Tess (Yooooou'll see. :) I can't make Mags all the way better, but she will recover some. Thanks for reviewing, hon!), and Guest (LOL. It _would _be totally badass. Sadly, that's not gonna happen. Although I really want it to now... really badly. Thanks for reviewing!) for their wonderful reviews. You guys make me smile so big.**

* * *

"I needed you!" I scream, tears pouring down my face. "I needed you and you weren't there! You disappeared! You ran out on me. On us." My hands violently rub at my cheeks. "How could you?" It's barely even a whisper, broken and childish. "Why?"

He watches me silently, his eyes dead.

"Say something!"

He gets up and moves across the room, going into the kitchen. For one glorious heartbeat, I thought he was coming to comfort and console me.

I should have known better.

I storm after him, glaring as he calmly begins making tea. "Stop it!" My hand crashes down on the pot, sending boiling water out and over my hand, burning it. We stare at the reddening skin for a moment, me biting my lip in pain and him completely impassive. It's as if he were watching an ant crawl across a countertop. Nothing significant, nothing important, nothing he's ever held dear.

Slowly, he moves away from me and the tea, going back into the living room to sit in that same wooden chair he has been since I got here.

I curse and kick out at a chair by the kitchen table, watching as it tips over with a loud crash, then walking over to the sink and letting cool water flow over my hand. My eyes stay firmly closed while I fight back whimpers. Eventually, my head rests on the faucet, tears melding with the water.

After it numbs, I dry my hand off and head back into the living room, more upset and infuriated than before. How dare he treat me like this. He'll pay if it's the last thing I do, he'll regret doing what he did. I'll break him and leave him, see how he likes being alone when you really need someone.

He doesn't even move when I enter the room.

"You make me sick. I can't believe you. How could you do that?" I hiss. I glare menacingly at him, but it doesn't affect him, doesn't bring about any sort of change in his composure.

For a brief moment, his brown eyes that are an exact replica of mine flit to my face. I feel the walls of resilience breaking down around me, can feel the tears start to flow down my face again as I stare into his weathered face. My knees hit the hard floor, bruises immediately forming on them. My eyes are trained on his now blurry face. "Why, daddy?"

His eyes harden as he watches me and I realize I must be an awful sight. My hair is probably a tangled mess from the voyage and walk up to the lighthouse, my party clothes crumpled and splattered with mud, burnt hand, tear-stained face. It's no wonder he hasn't taken me seriously. I must have seemed a lunatic when I appeared on his doorstep.

"Nicci, sweetheart, are you alright? What happened to you?"

Reluctantly, I turn to see my uncle in the doorway. His frame is blurry and, despite not seeing him in a couple years, I immediately recognize him. I'd know him anywhere. My father's twin.

He ambles forward and crouches down beside me. "Kellan, what's the matter with you? Her hand's burnt and it needs treated." Seamus scoops me up and marches me into the bathroom. He gently sets me down on the edge of the bathtub before digging around for some medicine. "What are you doing here?"

I glower past him and into the living room where I can still see my father sitting in that same chair as though nothing's happened. "I came to knock some sense into him. He said he wanted the twins and Keenan back and then he acts like this. Like I'm not even here. Like none of us are." I speak loudly and clearly, making sure to enunciate, so he can hear me.

Seamus bandages my hand, smoothing a cooling cream on before wrapping it tightly in thick gauze. His eyes meet mine and he rests on his heels. We watch each other for a moment before he gets up and shuts the door then settles himself down on the toilet, brown eyes boring into mine. "I know you're upset about that, but what really brought you here?"

I hug myself and stare down at my feet. I should have known Seamus would see right through me, would know that this wasn't just me barging in like a hero. Even when I was little, Seamus could read me like a book. I nibble my bottom lip.

"Nic."

"I want my dad back. I want him to look at me and tell me everything's ok. I need him to tell me I'm not a monster and that I can handle this. I want him to help me." My eyes blink furiously as I fight away the tears. "I'm scared," I whisper, "and I need help. I need my dad."

He nods and holds me close, kissing the top of my head, and I snuggle into him. He smells like the salt air and wet earth. "Everything's going to be ok."

"It won't," I sob. "It can't be. We're all going to die."

"Hey," he chastises, pulling away to stare hard into my face. "Don't talk like that. It's all going to be ok. I know you're scared and you're hurting, but this will all come to pass." He wipes a couple tears from my face. "I know it isn't the same, but, whatever you need help with, I'm here for you."

* * *

A week later and the withdrawal symptoms are truly kicking in. I have tremors that shake my body every now and again and I've stopped sleeping. I don't eat much either and that's when I eat at all. I'm more irritable and unpleasant than I've ever imagined a person could be.

After I told him what I needed help with, Seamus took on his new role extremely seriously. He's gotten rid of anything that could ease the pain of withdrawal- no alcohol, no medication, nothing.

This is hell.

When I beg for just a little bit of morphling, when I scream at him and curse him, when I kick and punch him, when I cry and beg for death, he just calmly takes me into his arms and reminds me why we're doing this. He paints a picture of a brighter future, tells me how proud he is of me and how everything's going to be ok.

It helps.

But it's still hell.

And I hate him for making me follow through with it.

* * *

"You said you weren't going away anymore!" Keenan yells when I walk into the house, refusing to come near me when I crouch down for a hug.

I let him go, knowing I've hurt him as badly as I could have. He doesn't understand it now, but it was for the best. I'm better now. I'm not reliant on anything. I can protect him, our family, and my tributes this summer.

This was for the best, but there's no denying the ache that throbs in my chest at the sight of his angry tears.

"Nicci," Castalia says, coming forward to envelop me in a tight hug. She cups my face. "Are you better?"

I nod. I'm glad she at least doesn't hate me and understands why I left like I did. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Where're the twins?"

"School's not out for another hour."

"Ok." I nibble my lip. The nerves are beginning to kick into overdrive, my palms are even sweating. "Well, I have a surprise."

She quirks an eyebrow and I grab her hand, leading her out onto the front porch.

Her eyes go wide as she takes him in. "No."

His face falls as she turns to go back into the house and I know he won't be there when I get back. Her rejection is like a slap to the face for him. His hopes have been crushed, especially since he worked so hard to get cleaned up. I didn't find out until halfway through my time in the lighthouse that he'd turned to alcohol to cope and that was why he stayed away.

At least I know where he's going, unlike Castalia did last time- back to the yellow house in town where Seamus is cleaning things up for him.

I hurry into the house after her, catching her in the hallway. "Cassie-"

"No. Not after what he did."

"Cas-"

"No, Nicaea. No."

"He's going to live in our old house. He knows he messed up."

She doesn't say a word, just stares at me with livid blue eyes.

"He won't come back until you're ready. He agreed to that. But Lara, Lilaea, and Keenan need to have him in their lives. We aren't enough, Cassie. We aren't old enough to be parents. We can't do this on our own." I look imploringly at her, trying to get her to understand, but her steely eyes continue to glare back at me. "I'm not trying to excuse what he did. I'm still mad at him too, but he's working on being like he was before and they deserve to have as close a childhood to ours as we can give them."

She shakes her head. "He isn't our father anymore. I don't know what went on in that lighthouse between the two of you, but it doesn't make up for him disappearing like that. And you bringing him back doesn't make up for the disappearing act you pulled either." With that said, she turns tail and hurries off to the back porch where I can see Keenan pouting on the back stairs.

Immediately, I go to the phone, cradling the receiver as I enter the numbers. My heartrate increases with every ring. He doesn't pick up. I dial again. I need to hear him tell me he loves me and tell me I made the right decision, that he wouldn't have helped me escape if I hadn't.

This goes on three times before I call it quits and slink up to my room, collapsing onto the bed with a sob.

"I did the right thing," I whisper. "I did the right thing."

* * *

A week later and things are shaky at best. Everyone is talking to me by now, but it's in short, clipped sentences. I sometimes still catch them glaring at me and the cold shoulder Keenan's giving me is enough to break my heart.

The only time things are better is when I visit the old, yellow house and Annie.

Seamus was a lifesaver until he left a couple days ago. He worked as an in-between for me and my siblings, rebuilding the bridge. He's even stepped in as a sort of father-figure while Dad continues to get better. Even though he left, he promised to come back as soon as he could, but that could be a month from now for all I know. It's hard finding a long-term substitute for the lighthouse.

Dad has been a work-in-progress. There are times when it seems like he's back to normal, but then there are times when he just sits and stares out the window. I think being there, surrounded with the memories of Mum might be too much for him. Seamus says it's good for him though, that it's making him face his demons.

Annie... well, Annie still treats me the same as she did before and her gardens have become my little safe haven.

"Nicci."

I turn to see Finnick standing in the doorway of Annie's kitchen. He's been in the Capitol since I got back so it looks like another confrontation is on the horizon. I'm so sick of it. I'm not sure I can handle another fight or another cold shoulder.

"We need to talk."

With a tired nod, I head out the backdoor and into Annie's garden. Finnick strides past me and leads me to the rope swing beneath the oak tree. He plops down and pats the seat beside him. Warily, I sit down as far away from him as I can and on the very edge of the seat.

"Finnick, I'm-"

"No, no, cupcake," he says. "No apologizing. You've done your penance."

"Ok," I mumble, watching my hands in my lap.

"I understand why you did it- any Victor would. It was an easy escape and it made things easier to cope with, whether you realized it or not. I also understand why you ran off like you did. You thought it would be easiest, that it was the best solution. It also had the added bonus of seeing your father, who I assume hasn't lived up to the expectation you were hoping for." I shake my head numbly as I fight back tears. Finnick sighs. "At least he's trying." The swing tips forward as Finnick moves to kneel in front of me. "The only question I have," he says, "is why you didn't tell me or come to me when you realized it was a problem."

For a moment I just stare at him, at his bright sea-green eyes and the freckles coating his face, the fiery red hair, the strong arms that helped hold me together so many times. "I knew I'd failed you. I'd disappointed you. You thought I was being so strong and I wasn't. I was so weak," I say, a sob wracking my body at the last sentence.

Immediately, he gives me a hug, warm arms wrapping around me and holding me close. "You weren't weak, Nicaea. It was the morphling. It'll get anyone if they're not careful." There's silence for a moment as I work to compose myself. "I still wish you'd told me."

"I'm sor-"

"No apologizing," he growls, tickling me for emphasis. "Happy times are on the horizon. Now come on, I think I smell pancakes."

* * *

**I'm going to post a snippet of the next chapter on my profile as part of an "I'm sorry for posting this late".**

**Thanks for reading, guys. :)**


	30. How Much Further?

**Thank you to mormongirl33, Tess (I don't think it'll hurt to tell you here since it's in this chapter, but Cato was visiting his brother Titus. Since there's no phone in the lighthouse, Nic would have had no way of telling him when she was coming home until she was there... and even then Titus wouldn't have had a phone. It does suck, but, like Finn said at the end of the last chapter, happy times are on the horizon. They just needed time. Thank you for saying that and reviewing. :) It really means a lot. I'm so glad you like it this much.), pretty-pleasee, and Guest (I like to think most uncles would do that. Keenan (and the rest of the family) will be better. For this chapter, they're better. I just couldn't get a chapter written about them getting better so I'm skipping it. Thanks for reviewing!) for their wonderful reviews.**

**Thank you for favoriting.**

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**Here we go- happy Nicci... at points. And special surprises. And returning characters.**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: This takes place a week after the conversation with Finnick, during which time things have been smoothed over with Nicaea's siblings. I'm still vaguely working on a chapter with that, but I doubt it'll get completed or added to the story.**

* * *

I tug my scarf tighter around my neck as I step off the train. It's bitter cold here, almost unbearably so. If it weren't for the multiple layers, boots, mittens, scarf, and hat, I don't think I could stand it here for more than a minute.

Who am I kidding? I'd stand out here in the cold for hours in much less than this. And it would be worth every second.

I pick up my suitcase and wander further onto the platform, keeping my eyes peeled for anyone recognizable, but I don't have any luck. My fellow train passengers have long since wandered off and the people in the street are going about their business and not paying me any attention whatsoever.

Right as I'm about to dust off a bench for myself, something cold and hard hits my cheek. The iciness explodes to encompass my whole face, while the remnants flow down onto the tender flesh of my neck. I think I might have screamed when the thing knocked me off balance, but I can't be sure. All I know is I'm cold, I'm wet, something's attacking me and I'm completely defenseless.

I try to wipe the slush off my face so I can see and to try to rub some feeling back into it when three more of the things hit me, pelting my face, leg, and stomach. Without a thought, my body hunkers down, protecting itself while my mind tries to come up with some logical explanation and a way out of this.

After a few minutes of ceasefire, I stand up, looking for the culprits, but finding nothing. Not even some snot-nosed kid I can pretend did it. With a sigh, I pick up my suitcase again and begin to head off the platform. I'll try and find somewhere to warm up, then hunt someone down for directions. I clearly can't stay out here in the open.

I don't even make it to the steps.

Another body collides with mine, sending us both toppling off the platform. My body tenses for impact, mind imagining the ache and bruises that are sure to pop up and a million different ways to kill the person responsible for it. My attacker and I land gently enough into the collection of powdery snow encircling the platform.

As luck would have it, I end up on top, a leg on either side of the imbecile.

I open my eyes as I pull back, prepping my right hand to collide with the person's nose, but I stop short. My eyes go wide.

"Have you never been in a snowball fight before?" There's a playful smile tugging at the right side of his face. He's teasing. I can tell from the mischievous glint in his brilliant blue eyes.

"Is that what you were throwing at me?" He doesn't have to say it; I know he was the one attacking me now.

His brow furrows. "What did you think it was?"

I shrug.

"Do you even know what a snowball is?"

"I would assume it's a ball made of snow, whose sole purpose in life is to attack innocent girls as they exit the train platform." I raise an eyebrow accusingly at him.

"That's a no." He reaches up and cups the back of my head, bringing it closer to him. "I'll teach you later," he whispers, eyes closing as our faces get closer.

Just before we can kiss another wretched snowball hits us both smack in the face.

"I've never been particularly fond of watching you hook up with girls, Cato."

My brow furrows, but not at the prospect of Cato hooking up with other girls. I'm not dumb enough to think he's a saint. The ease with which he killed people in the Arena while flirting with Glimmer proves that fact. No, it's the fact that I know that voice. I've heard it somewhere before.

My eyes meet his green ones just as Cato makes it all click into place.

"You have the worst timing in the world, Nero," he growls, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"I can assure you, you two wouldn't be doing anything worthwhile in the town square."

He's leaned up against the handrail on the far side of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest and green eyes looking past me at Cato. It's the boy from the first time I came here. The one who popped in while Cato and I were… well, in a relatively compromising position in the shower.

My cheeks flood with heat.

"Come on," Nero says, grabbing my forgotten suitcase from where it tumbled down the stairs. "I'm due back at the Academy in an hour. Some of us haven't gotten to Volunteer yet."

He doesn't even give us a passing glance as he makes his way across the street with my bag.

Somehow Cato gets us both to our feet and he spends a moment dusting us off before taking my small, mittened hand in his. "Sorry about Nero."

I shrug. I'm honestly not surprised. He's exactly what I'd expect from a Career from 2- cold, calculating, devoid of emotion, a general ass. "It's ok."

"He's the one who hit you in the face the second time… and in the stomach. I told him to be gentle, but-" his gaze focuses in on Nero about half a block away now and he picks up pace- "that's not really his thing. He'll make a great Tribute. It's a shame we couldn't go in as a team together. We'd dominate the Games. That'd be a great Quell, dontcha think? A Victor and a new Tribute."

I can't help the incredulous look on my face or the disgusted sound I make. "That's part of the deal when you become a Victor- no more Arenas. Not that it'd matter, you couldn't force me back into one." I don't bother mentioning his place in the Rebellion and how important he is to the operation. He should know it by now and part of me hopes he's just acting for the passerby. "And don't tell me you'd actually go in again."

"I would to protect you," he says simply, not even looking down at me when he says it. It's just a statement to him, but it means the world to me and I feel tears pricking at my eyes. He glances down at me before continuing. "Besides, it's fun showing people what I can do, showing I'm better than them."

An eyeroll works to contort my face, but I keep it in check. He's still a Career, I remind myself. The fact that we're outside of the Arena doesn't change that. "How much further? It's freezing, Cato."

He wraps an arm around me and smiles at some passerby who wave at him. "Not too much longer. Maybe another block or two."

* * *

"How much further?" I huff, my hands resting on my knees as I pause to catch my breath.

"Not too much. Come on, 4," he says, smirking back at me. "I thought you were tougher than this."

I let out a growl as I glare up at him. I'm more than capable of doing this; I just want to know how much longer I'm expected to keep it up.

His smirk gets wider as he turns around and I can't help it when my hands go lower, grabbing up a handful of powdery snow. Once it's compact, I take aim and let out a cry of delight when it explodes against the back of his neck.

He stiffens for a moment, a growl emanating back to me despite the fact that he's a good six feet away from me. Within a second, he has a snowball in hand and has pelted my face with it.

After wiping the snowy sludge off of my face, I send him a glower.

"I thought you learned from yesterday not to start a snowball fight with me."

My scowl gets deeper. "If you weren't so infuriating I wouldn't have felt the need to throw it at you. How much further?"

"Less than a mile. Come on, little mermaid."

I can't help but roll my eyes as he marches on ahead of me. He's reverted to calling me by his nicknames from the Games since we started our hike up the mountain earlier today, like that distances the two of us or something and he doesn't have to care that I'm cold or tired or hungry. It's infuriating, but it's kept me going.

Slowly, I put one leg in front of the other, watching miserably as it sinks several inches into the snow despite the netted contraptions he attached to my shoes to keep me from falling in. With a groan I find myself questioning for the millionth time why I agreed to this.

When we reach the top I remember why. The view is spectacular. I can see half a dozen villages peppered throughout the valley far below. They look so tiny, but so warm and inviting as well, curls of smoke rising up from them to signify the toasty living rooms. The forests of pine trees seem so small now too, near the base of the mountain they'd towered over me, making me feel positively minuscule in comparison, but now they're just small sticks a couple miles below us. Even the frozen bodies of water are beautiful from this perspective, the sun glinting off their hardened surfaces.

"This is my district," he says, pulling me close to him and I can't help but smile up at him.

"It's beautiful."

He leans down and kisses me. "Thank you."

My arms wrap around his neck and I nuzzle my face against his. "Thank you. This is fantastic."

"Now we have to get down," he says.

"There's not enough time," I say as I take in the sun's place in the sky. It's mid-afternoon. It took hours to get up here, there's no way we can get down from here before nightfall. My heart plummets. We'll have to sleep up here in the snow.

"Sure there is," he says, removing his backpack. "Just watch." He takes foot-long pieces of wood from his pack and begins piecing them together until they form two longer sticks somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve feet. "I'm not going to bother teaching you how to do this today so you're just going to have to hold on to me."

"What is this?" I ask, leaning in closer to watch as he attaches the sticks to his shoes.

"Skiing," he says simply.

"And what exactly is that?"

"You're kidding." He looks up at me incredulously, like it's impossible to believe I don't know about this.

"Cato, I'd never actually seen snow until the Victory Tour and I had no idea what a snowball was until yesterday. How am I supposed to know what skiing is?" My hands rest angrily on my hips as I stare accusingly into his eyes. He's being ridiculous, expecting me to know all this.

"Ok, ok. Fair enough." He points to the sticks. "These attach to my shoes. With them, we'll be able to… sort of glide along the surface of the snow and get down the mountain a lot faster."

"So it's like surfing," I say, quirking an eyebrow at him. "On ice."

He shrugs as he ties the stic- skis to his feet. After stomping around for a minute or two he reaches a hand out to me. "Come on."

"How is this going to work?"

I can see the huge amount of effort it takes for him not to roll his eyes. "It just is. You'll hop on my back and I'll ski like normal."

"Why can't I stand on the skis in front of you?"

"Because you don't know how to maneuver them."

"What happens if I fall off?"

"I'll come back and get you."

"Will it hurt?"

I can practically hear his teeth grinding. "You'll be fine. Now come on."

"Are you sure this is safe?"

There's a wicked yank on my arm, nearly pulling it out of socket as he pulls me towards him. It's an unwelcome reminder of how strong my boyfriend is. "It's going to be fine. Trust me."

I stare into his icy blue eyes for a moment then nod. Ok. He crouches down and I clamber up on his broad back, my arms and legs wrapping tightly around his body… well, as tightly as I can manage in the relatively bulky snowsuit I'd been shoved into early this morning.

"Ready?"

A shaky nod is all the response I can manage. This is nothing compared to cliffdiving, I tell myself. There's no real danger here. We probably won't even go very fast. It's just sticks sliding on snow. This "sport" was probably only developed so they wouldn't have to walk all the way down the mountain. No big deal.

Then Cato pushes off and my arms wrap tighter around his neck. "Ease up," he says, tapping my arms.

Reluctantly I do.

Cato pushes a couple metal rods against the ground and we take off again, quicker this time and quicker still when he repeats the motion until we're absolutely sailing down the mountain. The trees are nothing but a blur, the cold wind nipping at my face and causing tears to form in my eyes. I want to throw my arms out and whoop for joy, but content myself with happy laughter.

This is _almost_ as much fun as cliffdiving.

* * *

The snow swirls down in huge flakes, piling up to cover half of the window. Another foot or so and the stuff will be past my head and it'll be impossible to get out of the house. Cato says they're anticipating a blizzard and that this is just the start. If this sort of thing happens regularly, I don't know why people live here. It's scary. At least tropical storms only last for a day at the most.

I tug the blanket closer around my shoulders and take a sip of hot chocolate, my eyes never leaving the window and the slowly falling snow. How much longer till we're trapped in here? How long will that last? A day? A week? A month?

A shudder works its way up my spine at the thought.

"No, no. We're fine, Mom. We have enough food and firewood, the electricity's not out. We'll be fine. Are you going to be ok?"

My eyes flick down the hallway to where Cato's leaned up against the wall, the phone pressed against his ear as his mother prattles away.

"Ok. We'll call you every day. Let me know if you hear anything." Pause. "Mhmm." Pause. "I'll tell her. I love you too, Mom. Bye." As soon as the phone's nestled back in the cradle he lets out a huge sigh before turning and catching me staring at him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he says, slowly walking over to my chair by the fireplace. "You warm enough?" His hand rests on my forehead before moving down to cup my cheek. "I can turn up the heat if you'd like."

I shake my head, taking another quick sip of cocoa. "I'm fine. Is everything ok with your mum?"

His large body plops down beside me, causing the couch to shift and me to almost spill my drink. I send him a scowl right as he leans forward and kisses me. "Always is. She just worries."

It's easy to see how she'd worry. I'm worried. What if the power goes out and we freeze to death? What if we run out of food? What if the storm never ends? What if the house collapses under the weight of all the snow? It's perfectly logical for his mother to worry. In this situation, he's the crazy one.

"She says if you get scared or anything to call her. She's not from here and she knows how terrifying the first blizzard can be."

I grin up at him. "Your mum's sweet."

* * *

My eyes slowly open, taking what feels like an eternity, but I'm still so sleepy and part of me wants to just roll over in my little cocoon and slip back into dream land. It's so warm here. My arms stretch over my head, my back arching until it pops. With a contented sigh, I lay comfortably in the blankets.

Cato comes into view as I tilt my head. His brow is furrowed as his hands move across the pad of paper in front of him, one smudging and the other… drawing, I'd assume. Even though it's his talent, I've never actually seen him do it. Part of me wondered if he did his pieces or if he was like me and got some help from people who could actually do it.

I settle in on my side and watch him work, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire behind me and his pencil moving smoothly and precisely across the paper. After watching him handle something as big and ungainly as his broadsword, it's a bit surprising to see that he can work with something as small and breakable as a pencil.

His eyes flick up and a lopsided grin forms on his face. "You're supposed to be sleeping. I'm not done yet."

My brow furrows slightly. "What're you drawing?"

"You."

A slight blush creeps up into my cheeks and I look away, thinking about how messy my hair must be and the fact that there are probably creases in my cheek from where I laid on the pillow. With my luck, I was probably drooling too. "Are you really?"

"You're usually what I draw. At least since the Games." He states it simply, almost like it should have been obvious. As if there were nothing else to draw.

"Can I see?" I watched a rerun of his Interview and saw a lot of his sketches, but there was only one of me. It was that moment after 10 tried to kill me and Cato had burst into the trees. I've seen the moment replayed on television screens. I look awful, a true and absolute mess, but in that sketch there was something beautiful about me. Something almost impossible to describe. Like there was some inner strength that glowed from within me.

The interviewer had asked him about it. _Why that moment? There were so many passionate moments between the two of you. Why the one where many would say she was at her weakest?_

_Because it was in that moment that I knew she'd be impossible to beat. It was that moment when I knew that I loved her and she was the one for me._

I'm stuck fighting back tears at the memory.

"It's not done yet," he says, bringing me back to the present.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I tease.

"It's a 'you can do whatever, but be aware,'" he says, smirking down at me.

"I want to see then," I say, reaching up for the book.

He sighs and hands it over.

My mouth drops. I'm curled up on my blanket, arm tucked under my head, hair pooling behind me. The fire crackles in the background, making a shadow form on the ground in front of me. My face is pretty well detailed- a small smile and my eyelashes looking long and dark. He even made my nose look good despite the relatively awkward angle. Even though I have a blanket tossed over me, he took care to make the curve of my hip well-defined, even detailing the wrinkles of the blanket to draw some extra attention to it.

"You know," I say with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk, "most girls would find this a little creepy."

He cocks a blonde eyebrow back at me. "Most?"

"I think it's cute," I state simply, going to turn the page, but stopping. "Can I look at the other sketches?"

He nods, leaning back in his chair and watching me carefully with his blue eyes.

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"No, Nicci." He stands up. "I'm going to make some hot chocolate. You want some?"

I nod vigorously, the warm drink has been a lifesaver during this blizzard. Thankfully, Cato says it should be over in a day or two. Then we just have to wait for the snow to melt a bit and for the town to dig us out.

After he leaves the room, my eyes flick back to the sketchbook in front of me, my fingers turning the thick paper over to see a new image. It's of a little girl bundled up in a winter coat, her eyes are crinkled as she sticks her tongue out. I'd imagine this is Penelope, Cato's niece. He went to go see Titus and his family a few weeks ago while I was away.

The next picture is what I assume to be the inside of the Academy here in District 2. It's eerily similar to the one at the Training Center in the Capitol. There are a couple obstacle courses and lots of weapons lying around.

I continue flipping through the pages, taking in images of District 2, Clove, and the Games. I end up stuck on one though, my eyes transfixed. I barely even remember it happening, but it's there on paper plain as day and the memory washes over me.

My eyes seem infinite in the image, large with tears threatening to fall over; on my cheeks are the tracks of tears that have already escaped. My hair is falling out of the elegant hairstyle it had been pinned up in, now cascading over my shoulder even more than it originally did. I can almost see my bottom lip quivering as it struggles to get the words out.

_Just make it quick, 2. Don't torture me. My family doesn't need to cope with that as well._

"Hey," he says, startling me and causing me to nearly drop the book. "Oh." His eyes land on the picture. "They wouldn't let me show that one in the Interview. They told me it didn't fit in with the image the Capitol has of you." My eyes meet his, brow furrowed and slightly confused. "They think you're so strong," he clarifies, running his thumb under my eye and wiping away a stray tear, "and we didn't want to ruin that image." His deep laughter fills the room. "If they saw how much you cry, they might change their minds."

I scowl and hit him in the arm before turning and flipping to the next page in the sketchbook, hiding a small smile behind a curtain of hair when I see it's one of me beaming up at him after cliffdiving.


	31. Nero

**Here we go. :)**

**Thank you to pretty-pleasee, Flame Dawn, Tess (I always respond. I'm the girl who keeps Thank you notes on hand just in case. :P Thank you though, I'm really glad you liked it. We needed a couple happier chapters. They're going to have a conversation like that in a couple chapters. We'll see how it goes though. Thanks for all your reviews, chica!), and mangesboy01 for their reviews.**

**Thanks also for the follow (Jordan Lynn 7).**

**Hope you guys all have an amazing day.**

* * *

I stumble sleepily down the stairs. Over the course of the last two weeks, I've memorized every nook and cranny in this house so I can manage it while I'm still half asleep without killing myself. I guess being cooped up in the middle of a blizzard has some perks. It was nice spending so much time with Cato and bonding, but I'm so ready to get out of here.

"Please tell me you got some, man."

My brow furrows as I stop walking, especially when I hear multiple different chuckles emanating from the room.

"She's pretty hot, bro. Seeing her practically naked in the Arena-" There's a low whistle and my arms cross over my chest. What the hell is going on in there? There are at least two men in there that I don't know. And they're talking about me. And I don't like it.

"Where is she anyway?"

Three? There are three men I don't know here.

"Probably sleeping it off. Cato probably kept her up all night." That one's at least somewhat familiar. It sounds like Nero.

"Aaaaah man!"

"Where're the details, bro? You've got some hot piece of ass upstairs and you won't even tell us how often you're banging her?"

"She'd kill me if she knew I'd told you what happens in there." He sounds so smug and I'm ready to knock him off his high horse. He's right. I am going to kill him.

"What she don't know won't hurt her."

I quietly make my way down the hall and move to stand in the doorway. Sure enough, there are five men in the kitchen- Cato, Nero, a couple other brunettes, and a redhead. Everyone but Cato and Nero have their backs to me and what looks like bottles of beer in hand. Why on earth are they drinking this early?

Cato smirks a bit, his arms crossing over his chest, biceps bulging.

I lean against the doorframe, my arms crossing over my own chest as I watch him, a deep scowl forming on my face as I wait for him to talk. I don't know much about these people, but I really don't care for the person Cato becomes when he's around them. It's the same as he was before we went into the Arena and part of me bitterly thinks of how horrible a bunch Careers these idiots would make. I could've slaughtered them all in the time I've been listening to them. And District 2 people take such pride in their training.

One of his hands runs down his mouth and chin, a huge smirk forming on his face as he looks at each of his friends, but it fades slightly when he catches sight of me in the background. "Uh-"

That's right, I think, you've been caught. Without a word, I turn on the ball of my foot and head back upstairs. I don't even bother listening to whatever lie it is he's telling them.

About an hour later I amble back down the stairs, completely showered and ready to go. My boots are loud on the wooden stairs and I make sure to step heavily enough for the idiots in my boyfriend's kitchen to not be talking about my non-existent sex life when I enter the room.

Thankfully, they're quiet when I enter, each of them eyeing me with a calculating gaze. Cato keeps his eyes down and doesn't bother looking at me, almost as if he's ashamed for getting caught earlier.

Good.

I make my way across the room and pick through the remaining fruit in the bowl. It's slim pickings though- just a couple apples left. I debate between the red and the yellow one for a moment before grabbing the red and leaning slightly to the left so I can grab a knife to core it quickly before heading on my way.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd quit trying to stare at her ass."

I whirl around, clutching the apple to my chest as I face the room of strange men. A couple of them averted their eyes, but one of the unnamed brunettes continues to stare unashamedly at me. I feel dirty and want to go crawl back into the large bed in Cato's room to sleep away the rest of my time here.

There's a low growl from somewhere to my right and I know it's Cato, giving a brief warning before he lunges.

My eyes flick over to him in time to see him reach over and pull me away from the brunette and under the safety of his arm. "I'm gonna go," I whisper, eyes trained on the other men in the room. I feel like a fish caught in a net and I want out of here and quickly.

"I'll go with you." I turn to see Nero looking at me. "I need to be at the Academy soon anyway."

There are a couple groans from the other boys. Apparently Nero isn't the only one who needs to get a move-on.

"Take care of her," Cato whispers, giving me a gentle push towards Nero. My eyes meet his, confused and a little scared. He gives me a quick, reassuring smile and a mouthed "I love you".

I nod and almost numbly follow Nero out of the room and down the hallway away from the boys' cacophony of noise. At the door, we silently tug on our coats. It takes me a couple minutes longer because I have to put mittens and a scarf on too, but Nero waits patiently with his eyes trained on the kitchen down the hall.

It's freezing when we step outside and I immediately wrap my arms tighter around me to try and somehow shield myself from it. Silently, I follow Nero back towards town, keeping a couple feet between us as we go.

"I know you heard part of our conversation earlier. Don't take it to heart."

I glance over at him to see him watching the road ahead of us.

"He was only protecting you."

My glance turns into a full-on glare. "How the hell is lying about _that_ protecting me?"

He chuckles under his breath and tucks his hands into his pockets. "If the guys knew he hadn't made a move on you, they'd have been all over you. It sounds primitive, but that's how it works. He was staking his claim. They'll leave you alone after today."

I let out a snort, my eyes falling onto the piles of snow surrounding the narrow path. They shimmer brilliantly in the sunlight. It's blinding. "Cuz that's what they were doing in there."

"Trust me, he's taking care of that."

I quirk an eyebrow at him, but don't comment. Instead, I begin taking in the buildings that are quickly coming up. They're different from any I've ever seen. All of them are made completely of brick with flourishing, ornate decorations at the top- a not-so-subtle reminder of the abounding affluence here.

Nero stops walking and I pull up short, turning to look back at him and feeling my stomach clench nervously. "Don't be mad at him, Nicaea. The Games ended for you when you left the Capitol, but he still has to pretend. The Rebellion and weakness aren't as widely tolerated around here." His green eyes are slightly narrowed and they bore into mine, but I'm having trouble comprehending it all.

"How do you know about the Rebellion?" I whisper.

"Cato told me. We've been friends since we were little. We tell each other everything."

I nod, only slightly aware of my jaw on the floor.

"Don't look at me like that. Not everyone from 2 is blind." He continues marching forward and it takes me a minute to regain control of my body.

"Nero?"

He grunts, not even looking at me.

"Thank you."

He nods mutely.

"Where are we going?"

"The Academy for now. Cato'll probably drag you around town after that." The cool façade's back up, but that's ok. I know Nero's a human now, that he isn't a blind Capitol monkey.

My eyes flit around the town, trying to soak it all in, but it's impossible despite the town being relatively simple in its layout. Everything's in a grid pattern instead of the gentle, curving cobblestoned roads of 4. The buildings are all made of brick and just as sharp and clean cut as the paved roads. People don't smile here either. They just shuffle past you, going about their own business. This place is almost as strange to me as the Capitol.

Eventually, the streets seem to run out of adults and everywhere I look there are teenagers and children. Again, none of them smile. They keep their heads down or they stare determinedly before them.

I lunge forward and tap Nero on the shoulder. "Where are we?"

"Near the Academy."

I nod. That explains a lot.

"Just stick close and no one will bother you."

The Academy here is at least twice the size of the one in 4. There also don't appear to be any windows. When I ask Nero about it, he says it's to lower the amount of distractions so they can focus on their training better. I don't go to the upper floors (there are at least two of them), this main floor is more than enough for me to begin understanding the mental dynamic here in District 2. All over the place are deadly weapons, far more than I even saw in the Capitol, and they glint maliciously in the light. On the far end of the room I can see some sort of obstacle course and beyond that a couple of doors that I assume lead to locker rooms.

From my perch on a bench near the doors, I can see dozens of kids marching past me. All of them are wearing the same grey outfit, none of them smile, and the ones that don't avert their eyes only do so to look at me and give me death glares.

What I wouldn't give for Cato to be here.

* * *

"About time," Nero snarls.

I glance up to see Cato walking towards us. There are bits of snow in his hair and his cheeks and tip of his nose are red. His hands are tucked into his pockets as he ambles towards us, a small smirk on his face. When he gets closer, I can see a cut on his lip and my brow furrows.

"What happened?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," he mumbles, ruffling my hair before turning to Nero. "Let me go tell Brutus I'll be a little bit longer."

Nero grumbles under his breath, but doesn't move from his spot on the other end of the bench.

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "What happened to his-"

"I told you he was taking care of it," he says simply.

My eyes widen for a second before I slump back into position in my seat, my chin resting on my knees as I watch the children Lara and Lilaea's age me slaughter dummies with little to no remorse. It's unnerving and I can't wait to get out of here.

* * *

"This is the main square," he says, gesturing with the hand not clasped in mine. "My parent's house is right over there."

I nod, my eyes not really paying attention to that bit, but soaking in the area. It's relatively familiar.

"There's the Justice Building."

And it all clicks. I remember it from a couple months ago on the Victory Tour. There's the statue in the center of the District's emblem- a stone held aloft by a chisel and mallet. Cato leads me over to it and smiles proudly at it.

I can't help but quirk an eyebrow. I don't see why we had to come see this, but then I start noticing that the base of the statue has something on it. I lean in closer, about to touch it and see if I'm imagining it when I realize it's writing.

Names.

It's a monument.

With my boyfriend's name at the tail end of the list.

I glance a couple names back and see Enobaria's too. It's a list of Victors.

"You missed this part of the ceremony," he says simply and a wave of guilt washes over me.

"I'm so sorry," I say, hugging him as tightly as I can around the layers of clothes. My brown eyes meet his blue ones. "I wish I could have been here. Tell me about it."

So he does, sitting us down on a bench and describing it to me as I snuggle up close to him for warmth. After that he begins pointing out the shops surrounding the Square- a couple restaurants, stores selling meat, fruit and vegetables, a bakery, some clothing stores. It's really pretty average as far as the main square of a town goes, if a little more expensive (this based on my limited glances at the ones in other Districts during the Victory Tour).

When he's finished that, he leads me towards one of the off-shooting lanes.

It looks like a residential area with metal fences and what I'd assume are supposed to be small front yards, but are just patches of clean, white snow at the moment. I'd guess it's a nicer one as well- the buildings are simple brick with ornate decorations along the top. Everything seems really well kept and put away. It's cute and simple.

Cato turns into the first yard off the way and I follow him up the cleared sidewalk path towards the plain black door.

It bursts open and I see Opal's face beaming down at us. "Cato! Nicaea! Darlings, I'm so glad you're safe," she says, rushing out into the cold in nothing more than her pants and sweater so she can sweep Cato into a big hug.

I fight back a giggle behind my hand as I watch him pat his mother on the back and accept the kisses she peppers on his cheek. It's so obvious that he's her baby despite being eighteen and having won the Hunger Games. It's adorable.

"Oh, Nicaea, come inside, dear," she says, wrapping an arm around me and ushering the two of us inside. "You must be freezing. It has to be a shock coming from 4. You've probably never seen snow before, have you?"

I shake my head. "Not before the Tour."

"You'll get used to it." She smiles gently at us as Cato helps me out of my coat and hangs it on a rung by the door. "Are you hungry? Lunch should be done soon."

"I have to go, Mom. They need me at the Academ-"

A loud beeping begins echoing down the hallway and Opal hurries towards it, calling over her shoulder that it's just the bread she was making.

I shoot a look up at Cato. "You didn't tell me you were going to leave me here. I don't need to be babysat."

"She wants to get to know you better. She's never had a chance to connect with anyone I've ever dated. Or any of my brothers' girlfriends... or their wives." His hand rubs the back of his neck and he smiles sheepishly down at me. "It'd mean a lot to her. And me."

"You're lucky I hated the Academy," I murmur. I don't mean to sound so bitter, but I'm nervous. I'm going to be alone. With his mother. For hours. With no escape.

"You're going to be fine, Nic," he says, giving me a hug and kissing my forehead. "She already loves you."

* * *

"And this was when he was three- look at those dimples!" she crows, her face the very definition of proud. Her blue eyes meet mine. "He was a miracle. We didn't think we could have another after all the problems with Titus and Cassius." Opal pauses and takes a deep breath, giving me time to wonder how many miscarriages and late periods tortured and tore her hopes apart. "As soon as I saw him, held him in the delivery room, I know he'd do something great."

I smile at her and nod, turning the page to see another, younger Cato smiling up at me.

"I always wanted a daughter," she murmurs, pushing my hair out of my face. I glance up, surprised at the fact that she's sharing this with me and the intimacy of the gesture. My mother used to do the exact same thing. "Eve isn't around very often and I only ever saw Helena at her and Cassius' wedding. I don't even get to see Penelope as often as I'd like. Holidays and one week out of the summer." Her voice trails off at the end, sad and heartbroken.

The sound of laughter echoes from down the hallway as the door soundlessly opens, deep voices can be heard over the stomping boots. Cato and Nero are back from their afternoon at the Academy, which means my bonding time with his mother is about to come to an end. It surprises me a bit that I'm sad to see it done and over with.

"He loves you. He'd follow you anywhere and I know you're needed back in 4, but please don't keep him away forever. I don't want to lose another son." Her blue eyes are swimming in tears now, her voice cracking slightly.

I immediately reach out to her, pulling her close for an instant before pulling away. "I would never do that. I know how much you need him too."

She nods mutely. "He's my little miracle."

* * *

"You almost didn't happen," I murmur as I run my fingers through his hair. His brow furrows, demanding clarification, and his grip around my waist tightens slightly, pulling me flush against him on the bed. Lightly, my fingers trail down his face, eyes following their path. "Your mother was telling me about all the trouble your parents had conceiving." Our eyes meet and I know I wouldn't be able to pull away from his gaze if I wanted to. "You almost didn't happen."

His hand moves up and runs along my jaw line, the calluses rough against my skin, and my eyes slide shut. "We won't have problems like that."

Immediately, my eyes pop open to take him in, expecting to see him smiling down at me teasingly. He's completely serious though. The boy who couldn't manage to propose to me is capable of saying something as deep as that.

The left side of his mouth jerks up as he watches me. "We'll have six or seven." Slowly he lowers his face to mine, his body moving with it to cover my own. "And they'll all look like you."

I giggle, wriggling underneath him as he sinks into the bed a bit. "I'd rather they looked like you." My lips brush against his as I speak.

"They're not allowed to," he whispers before capturing my mouth with his.

* * *

**There you go, more sappy happiness before I bring their little worlds crashing down around them. :)**

**By the way, little reminders:**

**Eve is married to Titus, Cato's oldest brother. Their daughter is Penelope- making her Opal's granddaughter.**

**Helena is married to Cassius, the middle brother.**

**I think that's all... oh yeah, don't forget to vote in the poll!**

**Four more reviews and I'll update. I'm excited for the next one. I've been listening to "Smooth Criminal" in preparation for it.**


	32. So, Annie Are You Ok, Are You Ok Annie?

**You guys make me wanna cry. I'm so flattered by all the reviews- and in such a short amount of time!**

**Thank you to Agv22, mangesboy01, Grace (Thank ya! :) It was fun getting write about Cato's life some. I'm hoping to do it some more, but we'll see.), pretty-pleasee, Melissa (Thank you so much! I try really hard to make my writing as real as I possibly can. I'm really glad you like it so much.), kmack777, and Jordan Lynn 7 for their wonderful reviews. Thank you for the favorites and follows. And thank you all so much for reading this story. It all means the world to me.**

**If you haven't done so already, please stop by my profile and vote in the poll (if you don't have an account, feel free to leave your vote in a review). I'm just trying to figure out who to develop more for this. :)**

**Also, Glee's cover of Smooth Criminal is amazing with this. I absolutely love the intensity of the cellos. It just seems to go together.**

* * *

"Shh!" Castalia hisses over the kids before rolling her eyes and settling down in the couch. It's no use. They've been bouncing off the walls all evening even though we took them to the beach for nearly the whole day. Normally it tires them out so much that they're nearly sleepwalking on the way back, but it just wasn't meant to be today. "I'm glad you're back," she says, grabbing my hand and smiling at me.

"Me too. It's nice to be home."

"I wish it was under happier circumstances," she whispers and I nod tiredly. Tonight they reveal our punishment for the Quarter Quell. That was partially why we spent the entire day having fun with the kids. Who knows what sort of horrors the Capitol is planning on inflicting on us? Granted, no one here is up for the Reaping. We're all too young, old, or have already been. It allows for a minor sigh of relief, but not enough- we still know people who're in the lottery.

"What do you think they'll demand?" I whisper, leaning in closer to her so the kids can't hear, but it's at this moment that the anthem begins playing on the television and the whole room goes quiet, ten pairs of eyes zeroing in on the screen.

It's the same square that he always gives his speeches in, the one I was paraded in as a Tribute and later crowned a Victor in. He's on a balcony a couple stories from the ground with huge screens behind him reflecting images of himself, the crowds, and the flag of Panem.

When the anthem fades out, he smiles at the gathered citizens and I feel my blood run cold as it always seems to does when he's present. He begins reminding us of the Dark Days and the importance of the Quarter Quell- to remind us of the destruction rebellion brings.

A child with a box comes forward when he's done and holds it aloft while the President opens it and pulls out the first in what looks like hundreds of pieces of paper. My stomach clenches at the realization that our leaders are and were prepared for hundreds of Hunger Games. Possibly even thousands. It's sick that this would ever be considered a solution of any kind, let alone a permanent one.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that no one is above the law and the strength of the Capitol," he reads slowly, enunciating the words clearly so that there's no room for misinterpretation, "the names of all District citizens will be entered into the Reapings."

His black eyes move so that they're staring directly into the screen and out at the viewers as he delivers the deathblow and, right before the screen goes black a half second later, I swear I see the faint hint of a smile.

It takes five seconds before the phone rings and all hell breaks loose.

I scoop Keenan up and walk with him cradled to my chest as I jog down the hall to the phone.

"Promise me you won't Volunteer."

I blink in surprise. I'd been expecting it to be Finnick, maybe Dad. "What?"

"Promise me you won't Volunteer, Nicaea. Promise me."

My eyes flicker down to the small boy clinging to my shirt. Anyone could be Reaped. It could be him. It could be the twins. Castalia maybe. "I can't promise you that, Cato. I have to think about my family. If one of them gets Reaped I have to go in." My throat tightens as I say it, tears pricking at my eyes as I fight back those thoughts and the fear of possibly having to go back into the Arena. "You don't have to worry about that though. Promise me you won't."

His voice is hard, his decision already made. "Not if there's even a remote chance you're going in. I'll see you tomorrow."

The conversation ends with a click. No words of endearment. No "I love you"s. He's mad at me and I understand it. I'm mad at him too. We'll work through it later. I have bigger issues right now. My family needs me.

"Nic." It's a faint whisper and I look down at his tearstained face. "Can I get Reaped?"

I choke down a sob as I look at my barely four-year-old brother. Looking into his blue eyes, a hardness passes through me. I want nothing more than to slaughter each and every Capitol citizen in the country. I want to run my silver trident through ridiculously dressed bodies. I want to torture Snow for all the pain he's caused. I want to burn his city to the ground.

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

I walk us back into the living room where my sisters have congregated in a mass on the couch. Their faces are red as tears slide down their cheeks and sobs shake their bodies. Keenan and I join them and we all move closer together, holding hands and kissing foreheads.

"They won't take you," I whisper when Lara crawls into my lap with Keenan. "I won't let them take any of you." I gently kiss the tops of their heads, my eyes locking with Castalia's. "Any of you."

More tears slip from her dark blue eyes and she nods, her arms tightening around Lilaea.

"We're all going to be alright. I promise."

Even though I say the words, I'm not sure I believe them. It's an empty promise, but one they have to hear right now. One they need to hear right now. One _I_ need to hear right now.

The phone rings again, but I don't pick up. I just sit and rock back and forth, humming a seasong under my breath. It can wait.

The fifth time they call though, I reluctantly pull myself away from my family. At least they're mostly calm now. Keenan was practically asleep when I laid him on the couch.

My hands shake as I take the receiver from the unit.

"Hello?"

"Get Annie."

My eyes widen. I'd never imagined she'd watch the program, even if it was required viewing. Annie just kind of wanders around in her garden doing whatever she pleases. Never in a million years would I have pictured her watching the unveiling for the Quarter Quell. She must be out of her mind freaking out right now.

The receiver drops out of my hand and I'm out the door a moment later, yelling over my shoulder that I'm getting Annie.

It's pitch-black out tonight and I trip over the hidden plants in the space between our yards, cursing as they slow me down and cursing even more as I get closer and hear Annie's screaming sobs. Even the stairs trip me up as I make my way into her house. The front door opens with a bang and I look wildly around me for Annie.

I don't see her anywhere, only hear her terrified sobs.

"Annie! Annie, sweetheart, it's Nicaea. Where are you?" Slowly, I make my way towards her living room. My hip bumps a table in the darkness and I wince, knowing there'll be a bruise there tomorrow, but not caring. I turn the corner into her living room to find it empty. Oh no.

"Annie?"

I reach the end of the hallway, the one leading to the kitchen with the phone, and there she is, curled up in a ball on the floor. Her brown hair has fallen around her in a half-moon shape and part of it covers her face like a black veil. One of her fists periodically beats the floor while another tries to muffle her sobs of anguish.

She's positively terrified.

I creep towards her, whispering her name in an attempt not to startle her. "Annie… Annie, honey… Annie…"

When I touch her shoulder she lashes out at me, hitting me across the cheek. It stings, but the look of horror on her face when she recognizes me takes away any anger. Her blue eyes are so full of hurt and fear. It's like my siblings earlier and I treat her just the same as I would them, taking her into a tight embrace.

"It's ok, Annie."

"I can't go back," she sobs, clinging to me.

"You won't have to. If your name gets drawn I'll Volunteer for you." I lean back and wipe away her tears. "You won't ever have to go into an Arena ever again, Annie. Not so long as I'm still breathing." And I mean it. The Games did a number on me, but that was nothing compared to the trauma Annie suffered. No human with an ounce of sympathy would send her back there.

The relief that fills her eyes is tangible and I hug her close, smiling a bit when she returns the embrace.

"Come on. You're staying with me tonight."

After helping her up, we stumble through the dark back to my bungalow where my biological family is waiting for me on the couch. Castalia quirks an eyebrow at me, but doesn't comment as Annie joins them and accepts a hug of comfort from Keenan.

"I need to make a couple phone calls, then we'll go to bed. Ok?"

Tired nods are all the response I get.

Down the hall, I lean against the wall as I listen to the phone ring.

"Nic?" Finnick's voice is excited and filled with worry.

"She's fine now. She's going to stay with us tonight, but I expect you here tomorrow. I'm not going to cut it, Finnick. She needs _you_ to tell her everything's going to be alright."

"Put her-"

"No, Finnick Odair. You do it in person." I set the receiver back in the holster more roughly than I should, ending the call before picking it up and dialing again.

"Hello?"

"I love you," I whisper, my voice cracking.

"I love you too, babe." And with those words, it's as if he's already here, embracing me.

"Please tell me it's going to be ok."

"It's going to be fine, Nicaea. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. Neither is Finnick. We're going to be fine. Everything will be ok."

I bite my lip to fight back the tears as I nod. "Thank you."

"Look, I'm sorry about earl-"

"It's ok. Heat of the moment. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Late afternoon."

"I'll be waiting for you."

"I'm counting on it."

I can hear the smile in his voice and a small one lights up mine. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good night, Cato."

"Night, Nic."

Ten minutes later and we're all huddled up on my bed. All of us. Castalia, Keenan, Lara, Lilaea, Annie, and I. In my one bed. I don't know how we managed it, but we did. I guess my bed's just a lot bigger than I realized. Either that or no one wants much space. Feeling other people so close is reassuring. No matter what happens, we'll make it.

* * *

"Hey, babe," he says with a smirk as he ambles off the train platform and I run into his arms as quickly as I can, loving how strong and solid he feels against me. It's reassuring. He'll hold me together if I break.

My head tilts away from his chest and our lips crash together. His hand on my lower back presses me closer, the other hand tangles itself into my loose hair as both of mine do the same to his.

"You don't see him for two days and it's like the world ends, but it's ok to go nearly a month without me. I see how it is."

I pull away from Cato to smile over at Finnick. He has his hands shoved into the pockets of his tan pants, a cocky grin plastered on his face, and his bronze hair an absolute mess. My heart gives a little throb. I missed him too. More than I realized.

We collide and he hugs me close. "Thank you," he whispers against my hair. "I was going crazy worrying about Annie."

"What are Tributes for?" I whisper back, making sure to keep my voice low as we sway back and forth. "She's my family too now, Finn."

His sea-green eyes meet my brown ones and he nods.

"She's waiting for you in the garden with the kids. The twins are keeping an eye on her." I try to communicate with him through my eyes, to warn him that's she's a mess and needs him now more than ever.

He nods, tips his head to Cato, and jumps off the platform before loping off towards the Victor's homes.

"Where's he off to?"

I turn to Cato. "Annie. She needs him and he needs her."

He nods, understanding immediately. Annie needs Finnick like I need Cato and vice versa. It's just the way things are, we keep each other sane and in check.

"We need to talk you know," he says.

"I know. We'll talk later."

My arm loops through his and we make our way after Finnick at a much slower pace- he's just a blob along the horizon when we get off the platform and I can't help but smile. He loves that girl more than anything in the world.

* * *

His arm rests over my shoulders and I snuggle into his side, tugging the light blanket closer around me and taking a sip of my luke-warm tea. My eyes gaze up at the myriad of stars peppered in the sky. It's impossible to see them in the Capitol and even in District 2 it's difficult, but here they glow their little hearts out. It's comforting to see them.

"The Arena did a number on you, Nicaea."

I glance over at him and nod. "I'm better now though."

"Better, but not perfect."

"I wasn't perfect before, Cato."

"I know that," he murmurs, kissing my head.

Silence descends for a minute while he works to piece the appropriate words together to continue the conversation, to guide it in the direction he wants it to. I'm not going to help him; I really don't want to discuss what he does. It seems highly unnecessary.

"I know you plan on Volunteering if anyone you love's name gets drawn."

"Cato, you can't talk me out of-"

He chuckles, low and deep in his throat. "I wouldn't dream of it. I love that about you. You need to think things through though. You can't just dive into this one and come out unscathed, babe. You barely recovered from the last Arena- what'll happen after this one? It's a Quell. The Arena's going to be so much worse than last time. It'll make ours look like child's play." Our eyes meet. "Can you handle that?"

My eyes look down at my mug of tea as I begin thinking it through. Yes, it'll be hell, but won't it be worth it to spare my family the torture? It isn't even a guarantee that I'm going in. Someone I don't even know could have their name drawn and then we'd be doing all this worrying for nothing.

As I'm about to respond, he throws me another curveball. "If I think, even for a second, that you're going to Volunteer, Nicaea, I'm Volunteering too. I think Odair is considering it as well- as a statement for the Rebellion. That means you'll probably have to kill at least one of us or watch us kill ourselves for you. We can't do what we did last time. Snow won't allow more than one Victor again."

The mug clatters to the floor, shattering into sharp shards as my hands fly over my ears and my eyes squeeze shut. "No, Cato. That's not going to happen." My voice is muffled. "It's not."

Cato tries talking to me, but I don't respond. My mind's back in the Arena- watching as he's stung by tracker jackers and dying, watching 8 prepare to throw a tomahawk through his head, him bursting through the trees to save me from 10, seeing him broken after Clove died, him nearly beaten to death by Thresh, the look he gave me when he thought I'd swallowed the poisonous berries and was going to die for him.

It's all too much.

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, I feel my heart speeding up and my breathing following suit. My eyes widen, every part of me fights it. I can't allow myself to do this, to let my body betray me. I try to shut down my mind, but it doesn't work. Within seconds, I'm suffering from a full-blown panic attack.

"Nicci, babe," he says, blue eyes filling up with fear as he realizes what's happening. His hands work to separate mine from my ears, but he soon realizes he can't do it without hurting me and gives up. "Breathe," he whispers as he tries to take me into his arms.

I claw at him, struggling to get free. To get away.

My feet stumble in the wet, syrupy shards on the porch floor. I wince, but don't really feel it. My feet fly through the sand towards the ocean, stumbling a couple times as I go, but scrambling forward anyway.

If I can just reach the water, I'll be ok. The ocean makes everything better.

The water's icy against my skin and, vaguely, I can hear shouts behind me. A wave flows over my head, knocking me over. I can't get enough air. I can't breathe.

Everything goes black.


	33. I Was Clove

**Wow. So. School. What can I say? It consumed my life. And I hated how this chapter ended, so I had to rework it. Which took time. A lot of it. Obviously.**

**At any rate, I really am sorry for the lateness of this chapter, but I feel like this is a better product than the original (which was, in my opinion, rubbish) that I was going to give you.**

**So now- thank yous. Thank you to FleurSuoh, kmack777 (Aww! You are so precious! Thank you. (Would you prefer responses on here or in a PM?) I'm glad you liked my Quarter Quell twist. It took me a bit to come up with it. :P), Grace (Thank you! I was wondering how that would go over. Umm... I'm still debating on a couple things when it comes to the linear aspect of this story, but ultimately it should go past the Rebellion's completion. I mean, I have to tell you where people are afterwards, right? You'll want to know if Annie/Finnick, Cato/Nicaea have kids or get married, right? Thanks for reviewing!), Melissa (Thank you! I'm so glad you like it so much! Cato's all over the place and so's Annie. Even Finnick's a bit tore up over all of it (as you'll see)- and understandably so. It's a low blow from Snow.), pretty-pleasee, and XxEyelinerHeartsxX for their wonderful reviews. You guys were such great motivation to keep going this week.**

**And thank you all for being so patient. :)**

* * *

"Hey, cupcake."

My eyes flutter open to see Finnick sitting in a chair next to my bed. His head's resting on his fist as his sea-green eyes watch me like a hawk, taking in every detail.

"You really need to quit having those panic attacks," he says with a small smile. "They're terribly inconvenient."

I let out a groan as I roll over in bed so I can look directly at him. "What happened?"

"You had a panic attack, freaked out, ran into the ocean and went under. Cato pulled you out, but you were already unconscious- it took him a couple minutes to find you. Castalia called me. We dried you off, bandaged up your feet, and put you to bed." We stare at each other for a minute before he smirks. "You missed out on pancakes this morning."

"Why did you bandage my feet?" My brow's furrowed as I watch him. The sandy beach shouldn't have hurt me.

"You stepped in broken glass. Not the smartest move ever."

As the memory of the shattered mug comes back, I can feel them throbbing, a dull ache, and I know there's no way to ease the pain. Normally, the doctor prescribes small doses of morphling when someone's hurt like this, but that's obviously not an option now. I'm just going to have to try and cope the best I can and hope my feet heal quickly.

"I'll be back. If Muscles finds out I didn't come get him as soon as you woke up, he's going to be mad at me."

I watch as he walks out of the room and down the hall. As soon as he's gone, I pull myself into a sitting position and take a look at my feet. Or rather, I try to. They're wrapped up pretty well, probably a good inch of gauze encasing them; whoever did it did a wonderful job of making it impossible to unwrap them too. I can't find where they tucked the ends away.

My legs swing over the side of the bed. There's a pair of scissors in the bathroom I can use to get a look at them, see how bad the damage is. Then I'll rewrap them and pretend like nothing happened.

I manage to stand on wobbly legs for about a second before it feels like my world's on fire and I collapse back onto my bed with a whimper. The dull throb from moments before is just a constant wave of pain now, making it impossible to even think about standing again.

So much for that plan.

Keenan pokes his little head around the door to peer in at me with wide eyes. His blonde hair is sticking up in the back in a little cowlick from his sleep. It's adorable. "Nic, are you ok?"

"I could use a hug," I answer honestly, holding my arms out to him as I nibble my bottom lip to keep from whimpering.

He immediately runs to me and jumps into my arms, knocking me off balance so that we both fall back and bounce on the bed. He giggles and wriggles out of my grasp so he can actually bounce and jump on my bed. I smile up at him as he lands on his bottom only to hop back up on his feet a moment later.

"You missed breakfast."

"Mhmm. I needed some extra sleep." I pull myself to sit cross-legged on the bed so I can watch him better as he jumps around.

"Cato said that. Why's Finnick here?"

"Because he's a bum and unwanted anywhere else," I reply when I spot my mentor in the doorway. I send him a playful smile as he pouts back.

"I like Finnick," Keenan says, landing with his legs crossed and a frown on his face. "He promised we'd go build sandcastles later."

"So long as it doesn't rain, little man," Finnick says as he walks into the room and takes his seat in the chair by my bed again.

"And then we'll play fort?"

"Yup."

With a whoop of joy, Keenan leaps off the edge of my bed and scurries out of the room. Probably to gather up all of his toys for guard duty in the castle.

My eyes go to Finnick's face. "Thank you."

"No problem. I'm hoping he can help lure Annie out on the beach too. I think the fresh air will do her good, but if he doesn't it's no big deal. I'll get her out eventually."

"How is she?"

"Better. She had some bad nightmares last night, but she seems to be handling it better today." His eyes stray to my bedroom window and he seems lost in what he sees there for a moment. "You didn't have to tell her you'd Volunteer for her, Nic." He stares hard into my face now. It's as if he's waiting for me to rescind the offer.

He'll just have to keep waiting if that's the case.

"I wasn't just saying it, Finnick. I meant it. If her name's drawn, I'm going back in."

"Even after last night?"

I nod and it's quiet for a moment as he digests the information. "Cato said you plan on Volunteering too."

"If my name's not drawn, which, let's face it, it will be." He doesn't seem troubled by it; he's already accepted it and is ready to take whatever else the Capitol has to throw at him head-on.

"Finn, don't talk like that. Someone else might get Reaped. You'll be one in hundreds."

"So will Annie and Keenan, the twins, Castalia, but it doesn't stop you from worrying or knowing that it's going to be one of them."

I'm quiet for a moment. He's right. Since the announcement, I've never once considered the option that someone close to me won't be selected to go into the Arena. It's while I'm pondering this that another thought enters my mind, one I'm horrified hadn't before now. "What if Mags is selected?"

Finnick's mouth forms a hard line. "He wouldn't do that. You and I are dispensable, new, but Mags is the backbone of District 4. You take her and you no longer have the District. Revenge is too much of a risk there."

I nod. Content that I don't have to worry about at least one person. I fiddle with my hands for a moment and look around at the cream colored walls as I debate my next question. "Finnick?"

"Yeah?"

"Cato says he's going to Volunteer if I do," I nibble my lip and look down at my hands in my lap. I glance up at my mentor to see he's never glanced away from me. "Is there any way you can talk him out of it?"

His eyes close for a moment before he gives me a spiteful smile. "So it's ok for you to go and Volunteer to save the people you love, but he can't do the same for you?" There's a slight pause as he lets the blow sink in, a tender bruise forming in my ego. "No, Nic. I'm not going to talk him out of it."

With that he gets up and walks out of the room, not even bothering with a good-bye.

A few minutes later, Cato walks in. He looks disheveled with bags under his eyes and his hair rumpled from running his hands through it. He plops down by the foot of the bed and stares at me. He looks so hurt and defeated and I can't understand it. Everything's ok for now. Nothing's gone wrong. Everyone's alive and breathing.

"Cato-"

"Shh," he says, coming and sitting beside me at the head of the bed where he continues to stare at me for a while, to the point where it's awkward and I begin to fidget under his intense gaze. Slowly, his hand comes up and cups my cheek. "I thought I lost you."

"Cato-"

He turns away from me. "When I finally found you in the water, you weren't breathing and you were so cold. I tried doing that CPR thing you talked about in the Games, but it wasn't working." His head falls into his hands. "If Castalia hadn't shown up, you'd be dead."

Gently, slowly, I crawl over and hug him from behind, my cheek resting against his back. I get it now. It had happened all over again. He'd received all this training his entire life, done all this preparation to kill people and heal wounds, but once again it had failed him. He'd almost lost someone else because he was too slow and inexperienced. In his mind, I was being mauled by 10 again. I was Clove.

I bury my face in his back by the spine and hug him tighter. I'd give anything to take this feeling away, to remove the immense weight off his shoulders.

He pulls away after a moment and stares pleadingly into my eyes, like a man facing a death sentence. "Nicaea, you can't Volunteer."

In that moment, I almost cave. I almost give in to his beautiful blue eyes and the broken stature of his face and body. I almost lose myself in his arms, whispering promises I'll regret tomorrow and the rest of my life. Promises that I'll have to break. "I-" My eyes lower to my lap. "I have to, Cato. They're my family."

With that he leaves the room. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't touch me. He just walks away.

I don't see him for the rest of the day.

* * *

About halfway through the afternoon, I get visitors. Annie comes in wearing a light, billowy sundress and gives me a big hug. She smells like her garden, sweet and flowery, and I smile up at her as I eagerly return the embrace.

"One second," she says and she flutters out of the room.

A moment later she comes in with Mags holding on to her arm and leaning on her. She looks so much better than she did four months ago, but she's still extremely weak and has a long way to go before she's totally better. I'm pleased to see that her hair's been pulled back into a low bun like she normally wears and that her smile comes easily to her face.

"We thought you could use some company," Annie says, beaming down at me as she helps Mags into the armchair beside my bed. "Finnick told us what happened to your feet." She sits at the foot of my bed and rests a hand gently on my bandaged feet.

"Yeah, not the smartest thing I've ever done."

Mags begins garbling next to me, concerned eyes glancing between me and my feet.

"She asked if they wrapped your feet in seaweed first," Annie whispers when I don't respond to Mags and just look at her with a furrowed brow.

My eyes widen as I glance over at Annie. How on earth did she understand that? "I'm not sure; I didn't think to ask," I stutter out. I glance between the two of them and Mags gives a tired nod like she knows they didn't and they've ruined my chances of ever walking again.

Annie quickly moves on to the next topic, as she normally does. "Have you seen Aoife's baby yet?"

"I didn't know she'd had it."

Mags makes a cooing noise and goes on in her garbled speech.

Annie giggles and nods. "He has the most adorable green eyes, Nicci, and his nose is so little and perfect. He loves Mags. He'll just lay there and let her hold him. Aoife can't get him to stop crying for more than a minute or two though. That's why I don't see her more."

"When did she have him?"

"While you were in 2. She had a rough go of it. They weren't sure she'd make it there for a while."

I nod sympathetically. "And his name?"

"Kian. She came up with it herself." She beams over at me. "He's so adorable."

Mags nods, her hand resting over her heart. She's such a mother to all of us- her awkward little band of misfit ducklings.

The afternoon continues on with the three of us talking and Annie interpreting for Mags. Eventually, one of Mags' children comes and takes her away for a nap. She gives me a huge hug and rests a hand on my cheek. Her grey eyes pierce into mine for a moment as she lays something in my hands. Her lips move slowly, deliberately to form a word. _Later._

Forcing the confused look off my face, I nod and smile up at her. That one word alone is such a giant step forward for her, a brilliant sign of the improvement on her condition. "Good-bye, Mags. Thank you for coming to see me." I tuck whatever it is into the cover of my pillow. I'll read it later.

She points at me and then at herself. I should go see her, it says.

A small chuckle escapes me as I nod again. "I will. Soon."

"Isn't she so much better?" Annie says as she curls up on the bed. "You should have gone to see her again."

"I know," I whisper, hugging my knees up to my chest. I'm afraid to admit it, but I was scared to go see her. I worried that she might be deteriorating rather than getting better and I wasn't sure I could handle that.

"I left you some flowers on the kitchen table. Lilacs and baby's breath."

"Thanks, Annie."

She nods.

"Are you doing better? Finnick seemed a bit worried about you."

She nods again, more vacantly this time, her bright blue eyes trained on the window behind me. "Cato came to see me."

I perk up at that. "Did he?"

"Mhmm. He said he wanted to meet me; that we'd probably get to know each other quite well." She smiles suddenly. Her entire face lights up. "Do you think he'll ask you to marry him? I thought he might when you were with Caesar or when you went to see him in 2."

"I don't know what he's planning. We'll see though I suppose."

"What would you say?"

I don't even hesitate. "Yes."

"Good. He loves you."

"And I love him."

"Finnick said he scared you at first."

"He di-"

"Nicci!"

"We can't-"

"Find our-"

"Swimsuits."

"I can't really help you, you know," I call as the twins' heads pop up on opposite sides of my bedroom door, identical ponytails swinging inward. I gesture towards my bandaged feet for emphasis.

"We thought-"

"You might-"

"Have an-"

"Idea though."

"If they're not in your room, one of the bathrooms, or your bags, I'm afraid not."

I watch as their mouths form the word "bags" and they turn tail to rush down the hallway to where I have to assume their bags are. I didn't realize they had practice today,but it makes some sense. With anyone's name liable to be drawn, the instructors would want to amp up training time.

Annie's voice breaks through my thoughts. "I can take them to the Academy."

I glance up at her. "You don't have to, Ann. They go themselves most days."

"They're only kids once," she says with a small smile. "They should be babied while they still tolerate it."

I want to counter with the fact that they hate it when I try to walk them to the Academy, that they make faces when I try to cook, that when I try to act like a mom for them they push me away. I don't though. I just nod. She's right. I should put more effort into the twins. I need for them to trust me and believe that I can take care of them.

"Hey, Nic. We're heading," Lara says, coming into the room with her hair wild and all over the place from running and changing quickly.

"Do you want me to braid your hair before you go? It'll keep it from tangling in the pool."

Her brown eyes widen slightly, then she nods. "Please. We haven't gotten it down yet."

"It does take some practice," I say, patting the spot next to me on the bed.

"I'll tell Lilaea," Annie says softly, gliding out of the room.

"Do your feet hurt?" Lara asks as she settles in front of me.

"A bit."

"You don't-" she pauses and nibbles her bottom lip "-you don't want any pills do you?"

The obvious nerves she feels asking me this, the absolute trepidation with which she approaches the question kills me. "I do," I say honestly as I begin pulling her hair into a braid on her head. She tenses up when I say it. "But I won't take them. I can handle it. I don't need them anymore."

"You're sure?" she turns to glance back at me with innocent, worried eyes. The freckles on her face aren't as prominent as I remember them being.

"Positive. I'm better now."

She nods and turns back around, babbling about things at the Academy as I braid. When I finish, she turns and hugs me. "I love you, Nicci." Then she scurries out of the room, the sound of her feet on the stairs loud.

The front door opens and closes. They're all gone.

I stretch across the bed and grab a book off my bedside table. I guess this is how I'll have to pass the time for now.

* * *

I feel arms wrap around me and pull me backwards. In my half-asleep stupor, my hands claw in front of me, trying to stay where I was, but the person pulling me is stronger and I slide easily across the sheet. I try to turn, but I'm already pressed tightly against their chest.

The smell of metal and earth fills my nostrils and I know who it is even before he begins nuzzling my neck.

"Cato," I whisper groggily, my hands resting over his as he pulls me closer. "What's wrong?"

I feel his head shaking, the scruff on his chin tickling me slightly. "Nothing, babe." His voice drops down an octave, barely above the breath of a whisper. "Odair says they're going to get all the Tributes out this year. Escape the Arena and go to 13."

My head whirls at the thought. Escape the Arena? All the Tributes surviving? Surely that's not possible. What on earth is he planning? How could he even manage to pull that off? It's ludicrous. Insane. Impossible. And exactly the kind of boost the rebellion effort needs. I'll have to talk to Finnick about it tomorrow.

"I love you," he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on the side of my neck.

"I love you too," I whisper back, slowly slipping back to sleep, my heart filled with hope for these Games.


	34. Each Day Is Like a Reminder

**Oh, darlings, this was supposed to go up Saturday, but I was up til 5 in the A.M. at the hospital. And then I slept all weekend to make up for it. Not fun, let me tell you.**

**But thank you so much for all your support these last couple weeks. Thank you for favoriting, following, reviewing, reading, and messaging me. Thanks to Tess (lol. Thank you so much for all of that. I'm glad you like it so much! :P As for your questions... you'll just have to wait and see. A couple more chapters should do it.), Tajmina, aliciafireheart.123, FluerSouh, pretty-pleasee, Guest (Umm... no, actually, it won't be the same. There will be certain aspects of that Arena present, but overall it'll be a different place. I didn't think that Arena fit in with this story very well... if that makes any sense. And I agree. I don't think Nic would team up with Beetee and Wiress. She'd be sympathetic, but not that sympathetic. Thanks for reviewing!), XxEyelinerHeartsxX, and mangesboy01 for their reviews. **

**And... umm... wow. Are you guys ready for the Arena? I have it mostly figured out, but I want to hear what you guys think will happen. If you want to share, that is. :P Oh, and I'll throw some bribery. If you can guess right, I'll write a drabble (500-1,000 words) on whatever you guys want to know more about.**

* * *

I hold her hand tightly in mine as the swing gently goes back and forth. The rain patters down on the roof and forms a curtain between us and the beach. It's been a downpour the last couple days. No one's bothered to even contemplate leaving the house. It's actually been kind of nice, having so much time together.

I glance over at my sister and smile. Her hair's pulled back into a ponytail, bursting in a mass of curls due to the humidity. She grins back at me, her eyes crinkling as she does.

"Are you excited?" I ask.

"I will be when it stops raining." Her hand squeezes mine. "You didn't have to, you know."

"Course I did. I got to run away for two months. It's about time you got a break. I'm sorry it won't be for longer."

She shrugs, inadvertently knocking her blanket off her shoulders and immediately pulling it back up against the chill from the rain. "It'll be wonderful, Nicci. Do you think it'll be warmer there?"

"I'd hope so; otherwise you won't be able to go diving."

Her grin grows tenfold. Cassie's always loved diving. When we were younger, we used to visit our grandparents a couple villages over and Cass would spend hours exploring the reef or leaning over the side of a boat with goggles pressed against her face. We haven't gone in years though, not since the twins were really young at any rate. Dad never really seemed to want to after grandma and grandpa passed away.

"I've missed it so much. You sure you don't want to come along?"

"Positive. This is your vacation, Cas. You deserve it."

"I just feel guilty," she murmurs.

"Why? We're all going to 2. It's not like you're the only one getting away." I grin over at her and bump my shoulder against hers. "I suppose you could come and train with me."

She makes a face and I laugh back. "No, thank you." She adds an eyeroll in for emphasis. "You aren't actually excited for that are you? I mean, you can train here."

I shake my head. "I'm not excited, but they teach things up there that we don't. Self-defense for example. And Cato wants me to learn how to shoot." My eyes scrunch shut as I stick my tongue out. "They don't even put guns in Arenas."

We both know why I have to learn to shoot though. I won't need to know how a gun works before I go into the Arena, but I will have to know after, when we're in 13, fighting for the Rebellion. Peacekeepers fight with guns and so will we. It'd be idiotic to go into that battle with only a trident; even a harpoon wouldn't make the cut.

Castalia laughs, but I know it's fake. "He's just overly protective. It's cute."

I shrug and tug the blanket tighter around my shoulders as the rain picks up. "It's something anyway."

Lilaea wanders out onto the porch and clambers up between the two of us, nestling her way in.

"Hi, Lily," Castalia says, throwing her blanket over her so they're both covered.

"Hey."

"Everything alright?" I ask.

"Lara's reading and I got bored."

"Mmm," I hum, an arm wrapping around her as I stare out at the pouring rain.

"I'm going to start supper," Castalia says, hopping up suddenly and hurrying into the kitchen.

We must've been out here for hours talking, I realize with a bit of shock. It was so nice though, having a chance to just sit and talk with my older sister like we used to before this whole mess that is life after the Arena began.

"I miss Mom," Lily whispers, her knees now tucked under her chin and her wide-eyes staring straight ahead. They're misty with tears.

"I miss her too," I say, hugging her closer to me.

"It was good though, right? She didn't have to be sick anymore."

I nod mutely, my eyes sliding closed as memories of my mother wash over me.

"Was she hurting a lot in the end?"

"Probably," I whisper. My hand slides gently over her head to try and comfort her. "She didn't like to show it though. She was so strong."

It's quiet for a moment, only the sound of water filling our ears.

"Do you want to go see her?"

She nods eagerly, teary brown eyes looking up at me.

"Put some boots on and I'll go grab an umbrella."

She hops up and heads for the door.

"Be quiet though. There's not enough umbrellas for everyone."

She nods before continuing on into the house.

I follow her and smile at Castalia as I walk through the kitchen. She smiles and waves at me, the knife she was using to cut up vegetables glinting in the light. As I walk past the door to the living room, I hear Keenan and Cato playing.

"Abandon ship!" Keenan yells and there's a loud crash.

My head whips to look into the room and I see him pretending to swim, his arms moving through the "water". Cato's sitting on the couch watching him and fighting off laughter.

"Cato, come on!" he whines. "The ship's sinking!"

I smile as Cato rolls off the couch and begins flopping on the floor, pretending to swim.

Keenan's giggles fill the room. "Not like that!"

I fight back a small laugh before continuing on my way to the front porch.

Lara's already waiting for me at the door. She has on her bright, yellow boots and a water-resistant jacket. I sit down silently beside the door and tug on my own boots. They're just as bright as hers. The color's meant to stand out on a boat during a storm, that way you can make sure the whole crew's still on deck, although I really like the bright yellow for its own merit.

"Alright," I whisper, tugging my jacket on and grabbing an umbrella from the stand. "We need to be quick."

She nods as I tug the door open and we hurry out of the house.

The rain pelts us the entire way to the cemetery and the wind threatens to knock us off our feet and turns the umbrella inside out a few times, but we make it in one piece and more or less dry.

I hug Lara close as she looks at the small obelisk that represents our mother.

"I miss her," she whispers again.

"I miss her too," I say, kissing the top of her head. "She'd be proud of you though. You've been such a big help around the house and so strong. Just like her."

"Really?" she whispers.

"Of course, honey." I give her one last squeeze before taking her hand in mine. "We should head back for now. We'll come visit again though."

Slowly, we walk past the hundreds of other obelisks towards the entrance of the graveyard. The gate doesn't squeak when we push it open and we hurry away from the field of death.

About halfway home, Lara trips in a puddle and water splashes up her raincoat, soaking her through and through. Even in the pouring rain, I can see her eyes welling up and her bottom lip quivering. Her knees are bleeding too.

With a snap, I close the umbrella and feel the cool rain sliding down my spine and pelting my face. My eyes slide closed as my face turns up to the dark gray sky. I smile and twirl, a giggle escaping me as rain droplets swirl around me.

When I stop and glance at Lara, she stares back at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

I grab her hand and twirl her around before tugging her into a run so she chases after me through the storm. She squeals in delight and runs with me after a moment, stomping in puddles and grinning up at me.

With a final twirl, we rush up the stairs, laughing with an arm wrapped around each other.

We shake off on the porch, leaving our wet boots by the door and the coats on a hook. Then we wring our wet hair out before entering the house.

"Go on up and get changed. If you're cold, take a warm shower first. I'm gonna make sure we have food."

She nods and wipes some water dripping from her hair off her forehead before scampering upstairs. Halfway up, she turns to me. "Thanks, Nicci."

I give her a quick smile before going into the kitchen. There's a pot of soup on the stove, the broth bubbling up in a hearty boil and I feel my smile widening as my nose takes in the delicious scent. What I wouldn't give to be able to cook like that.

"Where'd you go?"

I glance over my shoulder to see Castalia leaned up against the doorway. "Lara missed Mom so we went to the cemetery." I grab the ladle from the stove and scoop up a bit of the creamy soup, blowing on it to cool it down.

Cassie slaps my hand, causing the ladle to drop back into the soup, and gives me a scolding look. "It's not done. Go get changed."

Ten minutes later, I come tumbling down the stairs in a sweater and pants, the twins hurrying after me and all three of our stomachs growling. At the bottom of the staircase, they race past me, nearly knocking me over, but I fall back against something heavy.

My head tilts up and a smile warms my face as I see Cato staring down at me with his lopsided smile. "Hey."

"Why're you wet?"

I stand up and wrap an arm around him in a kind of one-armed hug. "I'm not w-"

"Your hair is." He picks up a strand and squeezes, water drips onto the floor and I watch before soaking it up with a sock.

"Lara and I went to the cemetery."

He nods, leading me towards the kitchen where I can see the kids taking their bowls to the kitchen table.

* * *

For the third time tonight I wake up. This time it's a pair of big doe eyes staring at me through the gloom. Her hair's a kinky mess from the braids it was in all day and she's clutching a spare blanket in her hand. "The storm scared me," she whispers.

I nod sleepily as I move into a sitting position. Both of the twins are scared of thunderstorms. They always have been. Even when they were babies they'd cry the entire night through unless Mum or Dad held them. I'm a bit surprised Lilaea hasn't come in here yet, but it's possible that she went to Castalia or hasn't been woken up by the storm.

"Come here," I say groggily, giving her a hand to help her into bed.

She hops in and snuggles in next to me. "I had a nightmare," she whispers.

I hug her close and kiss the top of her head. "It was just a dream, Lara. It's all ok. Nothing bad's going to happen to you."

"Promise?" She struggles to fight off a yawn.

"Mhmm," I say. "See him?" I gesture over my shoulder at Cato's sleeping form. His arm's stretched out over the spot where I'd been a moment earlier, part of his conquest to take up over half the bed. He looks like a big, slumbering bear. Lara nods. "I saved him in the Hunger Games. I think I can protect you from boogeymen."

She let's out a giggle and I snuggle her close again before letting her lay down and tugging the blanket over both of us.

"Good night, Lara."

"Night, Nicci."

* * *

There's a loud, piercing scream that echoes through the house. My body reacts immediately, lunging up in the bed, my arms spreading wide to protect the people behind me as I sweep the room with my eyes for the source of the noise. Behind me I can hear Cato growling as he gets out of bed and prowls towards the doorway.

"Stay here, Nic," he orders. "I'll be back in a minute."

My heartbeat races in my ears, drowning out all sound as I wait for Cato to come back and tell me everything's ok.

There's a tug on my arm and I glance down to see Lara staring wide-eyed at me as she clings to my arm. "It's alright, love," I say, wrapping my arm around her in a more protective gesture.

A moment later, Cato comes in with a crying Keenan in his arms and Lilaea in tow, her brown eyes laced with fear as she watches the lightning striking through the window and jumping as the thunder cracks.

I trade Lara for Keenan and hold him close to my chest as he sobs. I hadn't realized storms bothered him as well. I thought he'd gotten over it. It might just be the new house though or the fact that he was alone when he woke up. I whisper soft nothings to him as I rock him and he begins to calm down.

Gently, I wipe the stray tears from his face and kiss his forehead. "It's alright, Keenan. It's ok."

"Nicci," Lily whispers and I glance over at her. "We're gonna go sleep in Cassie's room."

"Do you want me to walk you down there?" I ask, knowing they're still terrified of the storm.

They nod silently and I move to get up, but a hand on my shoulder stops me and I turn to glance up at Cato. "I got it. You stay here."

He walks around the bed to where the girls are and gestures towards the door with his head, a sign to follow him. When they don't move, he reaches out a hand for each of them to hold.

My mouth opens to tell him I can take them when Lara reaches forward and grabs his hand. Then Lilaea takes the other one and the three of them leave the room, the two girls burying their faces in his arms when the thunder lets out a window-rattling boom.

By the time he makes it back, Keenan's sound asleep on the bed, his past problems already forgotten. Cato slips easily into bed beside me and sends me a lopsided grin. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whisper, settling into his arms. "Thank you."

* * *

In the morning, I wake to a pair of feet planted firmly into my back, no blanket on me, and my face being smashed into Cato's chest.

It feels like a miracle that I made it through the night, especially with this, the rain, and all the visitors.

I wriggle my way out of bed and pop my aching back, loving the sweetness that comes with it. My eyes flick over to the window and smile when I see the large patch of sunlight creeping into my room. No storm means Cassie's trip will be able to go off without a hitch, the kids and I can go to 2 with Cato, and I won't have to spend another night with merciless wake-up calls and little kid feet kicking me. It is going to be a beautiful day.

After my shower, I tug on a pair of pants and a light, long-sleeved shirt. I have no idea what the weather will be like in the other Districts at this point, but I have to assume it isn't going to be as nice up there as it is down here. When I walk out, Cato gives me a grin from across the room.

"It's not that cold up there."

I shrug and tug my suitcase out from under my bed. Galatea sent it to me for my birthday a couple months ago, but I didn't get it until I got back from Seamus'. It's a little weird to think I don't remember my eighteenth birthday.

"Seriously, Nic," he says, taking in the other long-sleeved tops and jackets that I've packed. "You won't need those. Short sleeves only."

"Says the boy who grew up there and has been moping around my house, complaining about how hot it is." I make a vague gesture around me. "This is perfect weather."

His nose wrinkles up as he collapses on the bed with a thump. "Don't you have clothes at my house anyway?"

"Winter clothes. These are late-spring, early-summer clothes."

"Duh!" I turn with a smile to see Finnick standing in the doorway with Annie. Annie gives me a small wave as Finnick strides over with a big smile on his face. He peers into my suitcase before clucking his tongue and looking down at Cato. "She needs every one of these shirts. Probably more than that. Don't you know how a woman's mind works?"

Cato rolls his eyes and brings himself into a sitting position. "I brought five shirts down here and I've been fine. You don't need all that stuff, you probably won't wear half of it."

"Not the point!" Finnick declares, pulling a shirt out and holding it against me. "See, this one brings out the brown in her eyes." He pulls another one out. "This one brings out the natural highlights in her hair." He pulls a third shirt out. "This one-" He turns and looks at me. "Why are you taking this one? It's not winter there anymore. You won't need a sweater."

"Exactly!" Cato crows.

I roll my eyes.

"Finnick, leave her alone. She's not used to the colder temperatures like you are," Annie says softly as she enters the room.

I stick my tongue out at Finnick and he blows a raspberry back at me.

"So infantile," she sighs, taking my shirts from Finnick before gently folding them and placing them back in my suitcase. While she does this, the boys leave the room, mumbling under their breaths about breakfast. "Be careful while you're there." Her eyes pierce me, driving the point home.

"I'll be alright, Ann," I say, hugging her tightly. "It's only for a week and a half. I'll be back in no time."

She gives me a sad smile. "But after that, you'll be gone for a long time."

I plop down on the bed and quirk my head at her.

"At the very least, you're going to be mentoring the Games, Nicaea."

I frown and tug at a loose string along the hem of my shirt. "I know. I just forgot it was so close."

She nods mutely and stares out the window at the sunshine-filled world beyond. "I never forget. Each day is like a reminder that another one's coming. That more children are going to die. That more people are going to be traumatized." She gives a gasping sob and her hands fly to her face as though to catch it and hold it in.

I rush over and catch her before her knees buckle and we sit in the pool of sunlight, me holding her and murmuring comfort as she cries herself out.

* * *

"How much longer?" the twins moan in unison.

"A couple hours."

There's silence for a few minutes and I watch the passing scenery, taking note of the mountains coming closer with every passing heartbeat.

"Are we almost there, Nic?"

Cato's feet hit the ground and he marches out of the train compartment.

I send the twins a scathing look and follow him out.

About halfway down the next car, I grab his arm and he whirls around, running his hands through his hair as he gives me a frustrated look. I wrap my arms around him and look him in the eye. "They're doing it on purpose."

He quirks a blonde brow at me.

"And you just let them win."

With a low growl, he breaks from my embrace and marches back the way he came.

I smile at the other passengers- businessmen from other Districts and the occasional Capitol citizen who's gone off on vacation somewhere and is returning home or off to the next stop- then head off after him to see him delicately preparing to take my seat by the window. He gently moves Keenan's hand, which must have shifted into my seat in his sleep, and sits down.

My brow furrows quizzically at him, but he just smiles back at me. He's not letting them win. He can't let a challenge go.

With a roll of my eyes, I plop back in his seat and let my eyes slide shut as the thundering of the train lulls me to sleep.

* * *

There's a crow of delight as we hop off the train, me holding Keenan's hand to keep him from tripping on the gap between the train and the platform. I glance up from my brother's blonde head to see Opal rushing forward to hug Cato and kiss him on the cheek, leaving a big, red stain.

She cups his face in her hands, looking him dead in the eye. "I missed you, sweetheart."

There are giggles behind me and a gagging noise from my left as she swoops in and kisses him again, making his cheeks turn red.

Then her eyes shift past her son and onto Keenan and I. For a moment, I see her eyes well up with tears. "Nicaea!" She embraces me tightly. "I'm so glad you made it back. I can't wait to get to know the kids." She kneels down. "You must be Keenan. You look just like Cato did when he was little."

There's a groan and I look up at the source. Cato has a hand over his face, obviously worried she's going to go on a terror, telling all kinds of stories from his childhood. I grin over at him and he lets out a long breath through his nose.

"And you must be Lara and Lilaea. I'm Opal, Cato's mother."

"Hello," the twins say and Keenan gives a soft, "Hi."

"Come on, come on!" she declares, grabbing a suitcase and heading down the stairs. "I have supper waiting on us."

Cato grabs another one and follows her. I gesture for the twins to follow suit, the two of them carrying a suitcase between them, before Keenan and I bring up the rear.

"It's weird here, Nicci," he whispers loudly.

I nod. "You get used to it though. And then it's not so bad."

"I wanna go home."

"It's only for a week, Keenan. It'll be alright."


End file.
